-     //>f 


WOTSS   A3ND  REFLECTIONS 


DURING    A 


RAMBLE    IN    GERMANY. 


BY    THE    AUTHOR    OF 


"  SKETCHES    OF    INDIA," 

i;  SCENES  AND  IMPRESSIONS  IN  EGYPT  AND  ITALY," 

AND     "  STORY    OF    A    LIFE." 


iiostou 

WELLS    AND    LILLY,    COURT-STREET, 

1827. 


^refact. 


As  I  walked  about  my  chamber  at 
Frankfort,  pronouncing,  with  no  very  feli- 
citous accent,  the  "M,"  "Mich,"  "Sich," 
of  the  German  grammar,  I  remembered 
the  saying  of  Bacon, — "  He  that  travelleth 
into  a  country  before  he  hath  some  en- 
trance into  the  language,  goeth  to  school, 
and  not  to  travel."  Nevertheless,  the  un- 
satisfied eye  demanded  of  me,  that  it  might 
gaze  on  Germany,  pleading  with  me,  that 
it  spoke  all  languages,  and  could  interpret 
all ;  and  that  there  was  much  in  all  coun- 
tries intelligible  to  the  eye,  and  to  the  eye 
alone.  With  the  exception  of  the  cele- 
brated work  of  Madame  de  Stael,  and  the 
admirable  Tour  of  Mr.  Riissel,  so  little 
has  been  written  on  the  subject  of  Germa- 
ny, that  the  most  meagre  contribution  of  a 
chance  traveller  in  that  country  scarcely 
needs  any  apology.  My  brief  notices  of 
such  places  in  Flanders  and  Switzerland,  as 


IV  ritEFACE. 

I  traversed  in  my  route,  belong,  of  necessi- 
ty, to  the  character  of  a  volume,  which  is 
but  the  personal  narrative  of  an  autumnal 
excursion  on  the  Continent. 

Claverton  Farm,  Jug.  28,  1826. 


fttUtroTmetiotf. 


It  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  be  awakened  by  the  morn- 
ing sun  shining  in  on  new  and  unfamiliar  objects,  and 
to  find  yourself  in  the  chamber  of  a  foreign  hotel, 
actually  upon  the  Continent ;  your  projected  tour 
fairly  begun,  your  passport,  your  pocket-book,  your 
purse,  safe  on  the  chair  beside  you ;  your  portman- 
teau, and  sac  de  mit,  that  have  safely  passed  the  or- 
deal of  the  rumpling  hand,  ready  for  instant  depar- 
ture, or  long  sojourn,  as  their  master  shall  determine  ; 
and  cares,  packets,  and  the  custom-house  behind  you. 

It  is  a  saying  of  Augustine,  that  u  the  world  is  a 
great  book,  of  which  they  who  never  stir  from  home 
read  only  a  page."  It  is  with  a  delighted  attention 
that  we  gaze  upon  new  objects.  Curiosity  is  awa- 
kened, and  some  knowledge  is  sure  to  be  acquired 
even  by  the  gazer,  not  indeed  very  profound,  but 
nevertheless  of  value. 

Calais,  Boulogne,  and  Dieppe  have  become  of  late 
years  half  English;  and  the  British  traveller  hardly 
feels  himself  abroad  in  such  places.  Commend  me, 
therefore,  as  a  point  of  debarkation,  to  Rotterdam  : 
the  city  is  interesting,  and  the  change  from  home 
and  contrast  to  it  are  striking.  The  canals  are  all 
smooth,  and  still,  and  covered  with  schuyts.  in  one 
of  these  I  saw  a  broad  Dutch  sailor  in  a  shirt  of  red 
flannel,  and  big  breeches,  employed  with  a  bucket  in' 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

dashing  water  over  the  bows  of  his  craft;  for  what  I 
was  at  a  loss  to  conjecture,  seeing-  that  it  was  already 
of  a  cleanliness,  which  seemed  to  resent  the  notion 
of  its  having1  ever  been  defiled  by  use  heretofore,  or 
designed  for  it  hereafter.  In  fact,  were  it  not  for 
the  size  of  these  schuyts,  and  the  dirty  red  shirts  of 
their  guardians,  you  might  fancy  them  mere  models 
— bright  brown  models  for  the  show-room  of  an  ar- 
senal. There  is  not  a  bit  of  brass  work  or  a  nail-head 
about  them,  that  does  not  glisten,  and  the  anchors 
hang  over  the  bows  as  polished  as  if  they  were  some 
kind  of  large  and  noble  weapons,  not  to  grapple  with 
foul  mud,  but  with  a  hostile  galley. 

The  city  is  a  strange  object ;  there  are  many  things 
toy-like  about  it.  If  you  pass  a  shop,  for  instance,  of 
a  mere  huckster ;  the  painted  tubs,  the  cannisters, 
the  measures,  the  scales,  are  all  of  a  shining  neat- 
ness, that  you  cannot  reconcile  with  the  idea  of  their 
being  ever  used;  and  the  red  unsmiling  face  of  the 
seated  shopman  might  divert  the  fancy  with  a  play- 
ful doubt  as  to  his  being  anything  more  than  some 
larger  creation  of  the  ingenious  toyman.  Thus  it  is 
with  the  houses  generally  : — the  windows,  the  doors, 
the  posts,  the  rails,  the  ornamental  iron  work,  are 
all  of  a  brightness,  at  once  pleasing  and  forbidding  : 
you  doubt  if  any  dare  breathe  on  the  windows,  or 
touch  the  knockers.  The  colours  too  are  all  pe- 
culiar to  the  land, — doors,  window-shutters,  sash- 
frames  ;  the  green,  the  red,  the  yellow,  have  a  depth, 
and  a  kind  of  dull  yet  rich  gravity  about  them,  quite 
different  from  the  like-named  colours  with  us. 

Except  a  few  of  the  old  Dutch  skippers,  there  is 
little  remarkable  in  costume.  In  the  markets,  in- 
deed, some  of  the  country-women  attract  attention 
by  the  size  and  form  of  their  ear-rings,  and  of  those 


INTRODUCTION.  Yll 

large  plaques  of  thin  gold,  or  gilt  metal  at  the  sides 
of  their  head  ;  but  the  dress  both  of  men  and  women, 
in  their  respective  classes,  is  a  something  belonging, 
strictly,  neither  to  that  of  England  or  France,  but  par- 
taking the  fashion  of  both  countries.  A  few  of  the 
elderly  females  of  the  middle  class,  and  upper  maid- 
servants of  the  like  age,  wear  the  decent  dress,  which 
I  remember  in  my  boyhood  to  have  seen  on  the  same 
classes  in  old  England  : — the  plain  caps  and  frills,  the 
kerchiefs  wrapping  over  the  bosom,  the  fair  uncover- 
ed arm,  the  round,  full,  nurselike  form,  and  the  quiet 
motherly  look,  together  with  their  remarkable  fair- 
ness of  complexion,  are  very  pleasing  to  the  eye  of  an 
Englishman  ;  and,  with  many,  will  bring  back  the 
thoughts  of  their  nursery  days. 

The  inhabitants,  generally,  look  as  if  the  busy 
world  had  left  them  behind  in  the  race  of  life,  and 
as  if  they  were  too  slow  to  recover  their  lost  ground. 
I  was  particularly  struck  with  their  late  rising,  and 
with  the  slow  and  measured  manner  of  all  their  la- 
bour,— between  the  hours  of  five  and  six,  on  a  July 
morning,  I  scarce  encountered  a  soul,  and  few  houses 
were  open  when  1  returned  to  mine.  The  sledges, 
which  go  about  with  burthens,  are  drawn  by  large 
powerful  animals  with  full  manes  and  long  tails  :  they 
are  shod  in  an  uncouth  manner,  fitted  only  for  a  slow 
high  walk,  and  they  seem  subdued  by  situation  to  an 
unhorselike  tameness.  On  a  market  day  there  is  a 
little  more  stir ;  some  waggons  are  driven  in  at  a  trot, 
and  you  instantly  recognize,  in  their  forms,  the  vehi- 
cles which  the  old  Dutch  and  Flemish  masters  have 
made  us  all  familiar  with.  I  saw  few  beggars  ;  and 
these  not  in  rags,  they  seemed  only  to  ask  charity 
from  those  in  the  middle  class,  and  their  abord  was 
rather  a  coax  than  a  craving,  and  generally  ventured 
on  near  the  beer-house  benches, 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION". 

I  should  perhaps  have  doubted  the  existence  o: 
mirth  in  Rotterdam,  if  a  boat,  returning  from  the  fair 
at  Brill,  had  not  passed  under  my  windows  the  eve- 
ning before  I  went  away.  They  were  "  the  happy 
low,"  and  loudly  happy  ;  they  danced  with  bent  and 
lifted  knees,  and  chins  depressed  ;  they  sung  out,  and 
they  drowned  the  softer  tabor.  Heads  were  thrust 
from  every  window,  and  the  sympathy  of  good  hu- 
mour shone  in  all  countenances  as  the  groupe  floated 
past,  enacting  their  joy,  and  apparently  rather  de- 
lighted than  disturbed  by  the  public  gaze.  But  the 
sounds  of  joy  are  few  in  this  city  :  they  certainly  are 
not  of  a  cheerful  character  in  the  Spiel  Huis  Straat; 
through  which  if  you  walk  after  dusk,  you  will  see 
mean  curtains  hanging  before  many  doors,  and  from 
the  lights  behind,  and  the  vile  scraping  of  fiddles, 
and  the  discordant  roar  of  Dutch  sea-songs,  you  may 
know  those  wretched  places,  concerning  which  so 
many  travellers  have  written,  and  not  a  few  unfaith- 
fully. I  believe  that  they  are  the  resorts  of  the  very 
lowest  class,  and  that  (in  Rotterdam)  a  Hollander  of 
any  respectability  is  never  to  be  seen  in  them.  If  it 
had  been  possible,  in  the  garb  of  a  gentleman,  to 
have  ascertained  their  exact  state,  I  should  unhesi- 
tatingly have  entered  them ;  for  the  system  is  but 
the  remnant  of  a  cruel,  and  once  general  custom  in 
Europe,  no  doubt  imported  from  the  East.  In  our 
older  dramatists,  the  system  of  the  old  licensed  bro- 
thels in  London  is  spoken  of  as  nearly  the  same,  and 
the  unhappy  state  of  their  enslaved  inmates  is  not 
unfrequently  alluded  to. 

In  spite  of  the  tame  regularity  of  straight  canals, 
and  trees  dotted  in  rows,  there  are  many  good  views 
in  Rotterdam.  The  Boom  Quay  is  a  noble  street, 
commanding  a  fair  prospect,  and  the  houses  are  ex- 
cellent with  large  handsome  windows  of  plate  glass. 


INTRODUCTION.  i\ 

In  many  quarters,  where  you  can  take  your  stand  so 
as  to  catch  a  point  of  view  with  the  water,  the  house 
gables  and  their  adorned  tops,  the  white  draw-bridges, 
the  foliage  of  the  trees  en  masse,  and  the  stately  tower 
of  St.  Lawrence  rising  above  all,  the  effect  is  truly  im- 
posing. 

The  view  from  the  top  of  this  tower  is  also  a  fine 
thing !  the  eye  ranges  over  a  vast  tract  of  flooded  coun- 
try,— over  green  flats,  canals,  dyke  roads,  and  ave- 
nues of  trees ;  and  many  towers  and  spires  glitter 
in  the  distance. 

The  suburbs  of  Rotterdam  are  not  remarkable, 
and  the  villas  would  find  little  favour  in  any  eye  save 
that  of  a  retired  skipper,  or  a  pipe-loving  burgomas- 
ter. The  lanes  here,  and  the  smaller  canals,  are 
less  cleanly,  covered  with  a  green  scum,  and  the 
smell  disagreeable. 

The  great  square,  or  market-place,  is  adorned  with 
a  statue,  which  does  honour  to  the  citizens  The 
equestrian  statue  of  a  hero  would  seem  ill  placed  in 
this  still  city  of  waters;  a  rough  admiral,  or  a  rich 
merchant,  are  the  only  characters  whose  apotheosis 
you  would  look  for  in  such  a  spot.  The  figure  of 
Erasmus  in  bronze,  in  the  cap  and  robe  of  an  ecclesi- 
astic, and  a  scholar  with  a  book  open  in  his  hand,  is 
the  fine  and  peaceful-looking  ornament  of  which  I 
speak. 

Some  of  the  hot  hours  of  noon  may  be  pleasantly 
passed  in  looking  at  the  pictures  of  Baron  Lockhorst. 
The  collection  is  not  large  or  fine,  but  picture-gazing 
is  an  amusement  of  which  the  true  traveller  seldom 
tires.  Dutch  paintings  have  a  character  of  uncom- 
mon truth.  I  have  observed  that  the  rich  and  the 
great  are  generally  partial  to  this  school,  which  I  fan- 
cy I  can  easily  account  for,  and  greatly  to  their  credit. 
It   would  seem  thev  desired  to  have  before  them 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

faithfnil  pictures  of  the  enjoyments  of  low  life,  as  it 
to  assure  themselves  (could  any  of  them  need  such 
assurance,)  that  they  did  not  possess  a  monopoly  of 
the  means  of  happiness.  Hence  these  endless  repe- 
titions of  fairs  and  fire-side  scenes,  and  groups  of 
boors  smoking  and  drinking  ;  of  women  cleaning, 
cooking,  and  working  at  the  needle  ;  of  furniture, 
kitchen  utensils,  provisions  ;  of  red  glowing  fires,  and 
bright  burning  candles ;  of  old  persons  counting  their 
money,  and  boys  warming  their  fingers.  Dutch  land- 
scapes, too,  are  very  delightful.  The  sea-views,  the 
fishing-boats,  the  banks  of  grass,  and  the  living  cattle 
of  Paul  Potter ; — the  smooth  water,the  reflected  build- 
ings, the  clear  skies,  and  the  cows,  which  you  may 
touch,  as  it  were,  of  Cuyp  ; — these  private  cabinets 
seen, — a  visit  paid  to  the  public  library,  and  to  the 
room  where  the  Academy  of  Sciences  hold  their  sit- 
tings, and  where  I  saw  some  good  instruments,  and 
bad  portraits ; — these  things  ail  done,  I  departed, 
taking  the  route  of  Flanders. 

I  must  not,  however,  leave  Rotterdam  without  re- 
cording one  pleasure  1  enjoyed  there  new  to  me,  and 
therefore,  perhaps,  so  prized  at  the  time,  and  thought 
upon  so  often  since  with  a  treasured  delight ; — I 
mean  the  sound  of  the  carillons.  I  shall  never  for- 
get it:  they  strike  out  upon  the  silence,  with  a  sweet 
and  silvery  promise  in  their  beginning, — and  thrill 
you  ; — then,  suddenly,  in  the  very  midst  of  their  kind 
music,  they  break  off,  and  leave  you, — sad, — happily 
sad.* 

I  left  Rotterdam  for  Antwerp  in  a  steam-packet ; 

*  Dr.  Bumey  styles  the  carillons,  in  a  forceful  and  contemp- 
tuous expression,  "corals  for  grown  gentlemen. "  In  the  face  of 
this  great  authority,  (who,  by  the  way,  disputed  the  merit  of 
Handel,)  I  confess  myself  a  grown  gentleman,  as  pleased  with 
them  as  ever  babv  was  with  its  silver  bells. 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

the  passage  was  delightful.  The  light  throb  of  the 
heart  is,  for  a  moment,  checked,  if  you  chance  to 
look  into  a  guide-book,  as  you  approach  Dort  ;  for 
there  you  find  that  you  are  sailing  over  the  ruins  of 
seventy-two  villages,  which,  with  all  their  inhabit- 
ants, were  destroyed  by  an  eruption  of  the  rivers,  in 
1421  : — but  the  quick  rushing  of  the  vessel  carries 
you  soon  away  from  the  spot,  and  the  vain  emotion 
of  a  vainer  sorrow  is  willingly  dismissed. 

The  distant  view  of  Antwerp,  as  you  approach  it 
up  the  Scheldt,  is  lordly.  The  lofty  tower  of  the  ca- 
thedral, glorious  and  pinnacled,  rises  above  the  city 
of  its  children,  with  inconceivable  majesty  and  beau- 
ty. It  is  noble,  noble  !  You  wish  the  deck  clear,  or 
silent  ; — it  is  an  object  to  gaze  at,  and  fetch  your 
breath.  You  land  on  a  spacious  quay, — you  pass  into 
a  square, — and,  as  you  pause  there,  where  an  angle 
opens  upon  the  near  view  of  the  proud  cathedral, 
with  its  air  of  Gothic  grandeur ;  and  as  you  look 
around  upon  ancient  houses,  magnificent  palaces,  and 
sumptuous  public  edifices,  you  feel  it  to  have  been  a 
fitting  scene  for  tapestry  and  trumpets,  and  those 
grey  war-horses  that  the  great  Rubens  was  wont  to 
take  delight  in  painting. 

I  no  sooner  reached  my  hotel  than  I  procured  a 
cabriolet,  and  drove  out  of  the  city,  and  in  part  round 
the  works.  Entering  again,  I  found  the  garrison  on 
the  glacis  at  drill,  a  great  part  in  squads,  without 
their  arms.  They  were  Swiss,  fine,  clean,  healthy 
looking  men,  and  well  clothed.  Had  their  clothing 
been  scarlet,  I  should  have  passed  them  in  the  Phoe- 
nix Park  with  as  little  notice  as  a  regiment  of  my 
own  countrymen.  There  is  one  point,  in  which  the 
features  of  resemblance  among  nations  are  uniform 
over  all  Europe ;  and,  however  manners  and  customs 
may  otherwise  differ,  I  suspect  a  barrackyard  is  the 


Xll  IKTKODUCTIOff. 

very  same  thing,  presents  the  same  objects,  and  its 
drill  is  conducted  upon  the  like  system  at  Moscow 
and  Dublin.  I  drove  to  the  citadel,  and  asked  the 
serjeant  of  the  guard  leave  to  go  upon  the  ramparts. 

Every  thing  had  an  air  of  abandonment  and  neglect ; 
the  barracks  looked  in  ruins,  with  few  shutters  or 
windows  ;  the  grass  in  the  square  ragged,  and  guns 
lying  about  dismounted.  The  orderly,  who  accompa- 
nied me,  was  a  Swiss,  had  served  fourteen  years,  and 
was  just  going  to  receive  his  discharge.  There  was 
a  sincere  joy  in  the  man's  language,  confirming  the 
existence  of  that  sentiment  which  is  said  to  be  the 
feeling  of  all  the  natives  of  that  romantic  land,  whom 
fate  holds  in  absence  from  her  attaching  scenery. 

The  docks  are  magnificent  works,  the  larger  basin 
capable  of  containing  forty  sail  of  the  line.  The 
idle  ships  that  lay  there,  waiting  for  cargo  or  repairs, 
had  peaceful  names,  and  came  from  busy  places. 
The  Hope  and  the  Providence,  the  Venture  and  the 
Endeavour,  from  Boston  and  New  York,  from  Hull 
and  Sunderland,  fill  places  designed  by  Napoleon  for 
such  a  navy  of  thunderers  as  he  was  never  to  be 
possessed  of.  The  work,  however,  is  worthy  of  a 
name  and  reign  that  shook  the  world. 

The  interior  of  the  cathedral  fulfils  all  the  promise 
of  its  outward  aspect.  It  is  a  consecrated  grove  of 
stately  columns  and  branching  arches,  It  has  space 
and  lightness,  and  its  gloom  is  of  the  softest ;  it  may 
truly  be  called  a  M  solemn  temple."  The  clear  voice 
of  the  young  choristers  wandered  tremulously  along 
the  vaulted  roof,  and  fell  upon  the  ear  in  weak  but 
mellow  warblings.  I  enjoyed  the  anthem  leaning 
against  a  huge  pilaster,  whence  1  could  gaze  undis- 
turbed on  that  master-piece  of  Rubens,  the  Descent 
from  the  Cross.  This,  and  the  other  two  famous 
pictures  in  this  church,  have  been  often  describe  ; 


INTRODUCTION.  XllI 

they  detain  you  long,  and  are  quitted  with  a  reluc- 
tant step,  and  a  backward  regard.  There  are  innu- 
merable figures  in  this  cathedral,  sculptured  in  wood, 
the  first  of  their  kind  that  I  had  ever  seen.  They 
have  no  quaintness,  but  are  executed  with  as  much 
care  as  if  the  artist  had  wrought  in  marble,  and  for 
elegance  of  proportion  and  propriety  of  expression 
are  remarkable.  The  countenances  of  some,  indeed, 
are  of  a  very  soft  and  pleasing  beauty. 

The  church  of  St.  Jacques  is  rich  in  objects  of  in- 
terest, but  that  which  more  particularly  attracts  the 
stranger  is  the  chapel,  dedicated  to  the  memory  of 
Rubens:  his  ashes  rest  below  the  altar,  the  tombs  of 
his  family  around.  The  chapel  is  adorned  with  pre- 
cious marble,  the  altar  is  of  the  like  material.  Above 
it  is  placed  a  picture  by  this  master,  which  I  consi- 
der a  most  enchanting  production.  It  represents  the 
Infant  Jesus  on  the  knees  of  his  mother  ;  St.  Jerome, 
St.  George,  two  females,  and  an  aged  bishop,  make 
up  the  groupe.  The  Infant  is  of  uncommon  loveli- 
ness ;  there  is  a  radiant  glory  in  its  smile,  and  the 
contrast  of  its  little  tender  form,  with  the  brown  and 
wiry  figure  of  St.  Jerome,  is  most  happy.  The  man- 
ly St.  George  and  the  two  handsome  females,  said  to 
be  portraits  of  Rubens  and  two  of  his  wives,  are  fine- 
ly placed.  The  bending  bishop,  with  his  grey  beard, 
offering  the  kiss  of  adoration  to  the  little  child,  and 
the  expression  of  the  virgin  mother,  complete  the 
subject ;  and  the  effect  of  it,  as  a  whole,  is  perfect. 

The  Museum  has  some  very  fine  pictures  by  Ru- 
bens and  Vandyke.  The  communion  of  St  Francis 
by  the  former,  and  Christ  on  the  Cross,  with  St. 
Catherine  and  St.  Dominic  mourning,  are  fine  paint- 
ings: the  latter  has  a  depth  of  expression  which  sad- 
dens every  beholder.  I  never  look  upon  such  a  pic- 
ture that  1  do  not  feel  the  value  and  high  dignity  of 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

the  painter's  art.  If  the  deep  notes  of  the  solemn 
organ, — if  the  melancholy  music  of  Milton  are  suit- 
able to  awaken  and  inflame  that  better  spirit  within 
us,  which  is  the  most  precious  gift  of  Heaven,  as- 
suredly the  like  noble  purpose  is  attained  by  creations 
on  the  canvas,  which  place  before  our  very  eyes 
those  once  acted  and  awful  scenes,  to  which  our  con- 
templation can  never  be  directed  without  benefit. 

There  is  a  fine  cabinet  of  paintings  at  Mr.  Von 
Lanckner's.  Among  many  nobler  pieces  are  two  fine 
Wouvermans ;  the  one  a  Pillaging,  the  other  a  Fish- 
ing Scene, — both  wonderful  works, — the  former  the 
most  interesting:  it  is  like  reading  a  chapter  of  mi- 
nute and  finished  description  from  one  of  the  Waverly 
novels  to  stand  before  either. 

Antwerp  is  a  place  that  I  should  prefer  as  a  resi- 
dence far  before  Brussels,  I  like  its  long  and  lonely 
streets,  and  the  solitary  figures  that  cross  them,  wrap- 
ped in  the  black  mantillas  of  Spain.  The  very  sounds 
and  the  very  smells  are  Spanish, — small  chimes  from 
every  tower,  and  the  smell  of  incense  issuing  from 
the  door  of  every  church  and  chapel.  I  mean  not  to 
rejoice  in  a  picture  of  decay,  or  to  express  pleasure 
at  the  thought  that  a  population,  once  200,000,  has 
now  dwindled  to  50,000 ;  that  of  9000  houses  the  half 
should  be  untenanted  ;  and  that,  of  its  212  streets,  so 
many  should  never  echo  to  the  passing  step  ;  but  that 
as  things  are  so,  the  lover  of  solitude,  and  the  dwel- 
ler with  silence  might  find  there  lessons  of  improve- 
ment, and  causes  of  contentment. 

Brussels  is  white  and  bright :  the  allee  verte,  by 
which  you  approach  it,  is  broad,  green,  and  plea- 
sant. The  palace  of  Laken  stands  well.  The  park 
and  the  place  royale  have  a  character  of  great  mag- 
nificence. But  were  it  not  for  that  fine  old  Gothic 
edifice  the  town  hall  with  its  fret  work,  and  windows. 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

and  tall  tower;  and  also  for  the  old  church  of  St.  Gu- 
dule,  I  should  not  have  felt  any  great  pleasure  in  the 
scene.  The  traveller,  however,  will  find  in  this  city 
a  gallery  of  paintings  rich  in  quaint  old  pictures,  and 
full  of  amusement. 

To  the  Englishman,  Brussels  has  one  association 
of  undying  interest  It  was  in  her  chambers  our  coun 
trymen  girded  them  for  the  battle,  in  her  squares 
and  streets  they  mustered,  and  out  of  her  gates  they 
marched  to  that  last  mighty  contest,  which  won  peace 
for  the  world.  I  drove  to  the  memorable  field.  The 
road  has  that  grave  aspect  and  those  shades  that  be- 
long to  the  forest  scene.  The  axe  of  the  wood-cutter 
was  the  only  sound  which  broke  the  stillness,save  once 
where  I  met  a  groupe  of  line  stout  ruddy  boys  playing 
as  they  walked  along.  None  of  them  seemed  above 
ten  years  of  age,  most  probably  none  of  them  born 
even,  when  the  battle  of  Waterloo  was  fought.  The 
man  by  my  side  did  only  recollect  that  English  sol- 
diers were  in  Brussels  when  he  was  a  little  boy,  that 
they  had  bands  of  music,  and  that  their  dress  was  red. 
The  Waterloo  laurels  still  are,  and  ever  will  be 
green,  but  most  of  the  locks  on  which  they  have 
been  wreathed  have  long,  ere  this,  turned  grey. 

Waterloo  is  no  longer  a  theme  to  dwell  on, — the 
praise  of  its  heroes  has  been  hymned  by  many,  and 
the  loftiest  harps,  and  the  action  and  the  scene  live 
to  the  eye  of  him,  who  has  read  u  Paul's  Letters  to 
his  Kinsfolk. "  I  passed  over  the  field  with  these 
aids  in  my  head,  with  the  memory  of  other  battle 
scenes  present  to  my  fancy,  and  with  Le  Coster  for 
my  guide, — the  veritable  Le  Coster  (for  there  are 
many  counterfeits).  He  is  an  erect  robust  man  of 
a  dark  complexion,  a  little  pitted  with  the  small  pox, 
and  with  black  intelligent  eyes.    If  he  was  fifty-three 


Xfl  INTRODUCTION. 

years  of  age  in  1815,  he  appears  little  older  at  this 
hour. 

The  farm-yard  of  La  Haye  Sainte  looked  like  any 
other ;  poultry  were  clucking  and  pecking  up  their 
food,  and  a  young  foal  neighing  for  its  dam.  A  plough- 
boy,  who  could  have  little  remembrance  of  1815, 
opened  to  let  us  out,  that  very  same  gate,  at  which 
on  the  day  of  the  battle  the  French  forced  their  en- 
trance, and  bayonetted  all  the  gallant  Hanoverians 
whom  they  found  within.  Shot  holes  in  the  gate  it- 
self, and  on  the  walls  near  bear  record  of  the  struggle. 

Hougoumont  is  still  a  ruin,  and  many  of  the  trees 
that  were  in  front  of  it  have  been  cut  down.  The 
aspect  of  the  spot,  therefore,  is  somewhat  altered. 
The  terrace  remains,  as  do  two  damp  and  ruined 
alcoves,  which  have  never  since  that  day  been  used 
as  such  pleasant  places  are  meant  to  be.  The  orchard 
is  still  green  and  fruitful ;  a  yard  with  some  repaired 
outhouses  is  occupied  by  the  servants  of  the  farm  ; 
and  a  poor  woman,  with  two  children  having  smiling 
eyes  and  red  cheeks,  came  out  to  receive  the  cus- 
tomary gift.  I  could  well  image  to  myself  the  hot 
assault,  and  obstinate  defence  of  this  post;  and  I 
thought  upon  the  scene  it  must  have  presented  that 
evening.  The  thirsty  wounded,  and  those  mournful 
roll-calls,  where  the  Serjeants  pause  at  many  names 
in  succession,  and  the  manly  and  prompt  "  Here  n  in 
familiar  tones  is  listened  for  and  waited  for  in  vain, 
— to  be  heard  never  again. 

I  went  regularly  and  leisurely  over  the  field.  It 
was  much  to  stand  alone  with  Le  Coster  on  the  very 
spots,  on  which  Napoleon  had  trodden  during  this 
mighty  combat.  The  point  to  which  he  last  advan- 
ced is  that  of  the  deepest  interest :  it  was  as  far  as 
general  could  go.  Many  think  that  he  should  have 
fallen  at  the  head  of  histoid  guard,  but  the  moral  of 


INTRODUCTION.  '  XV11 

his  history  is  in  far  better  keeping  as  it  now  stands. 
It  appears  to  me  that  they  who  pass  judgment  against 
the  generalship  of  Napoleon  throughout  the  move- 
ments directed  by  him,  from  the  twelfth  to  the  eigh- 
teenth, deal  hardly  with  his  fame.  It  was  surely  no 
small  exhibition  of  talent  to  compel  the  Prussian  and 
British  commanders  to  fight  hirn  on  two  different 
days,  and  in  two  separate  fields  of  battle.  1  he  vie-* 
tory  of  Waterloo  was  gained  by  the  iron  bravery  of 
our  troops,  and  by  the  firm  high-minded  moral  cou- 
rage of  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  Never  was  that 
higher  order  of  courage  more  largely  wanted,  or 
more  brilliantly  displayed. 

As  to  the  confusion  in  which  the  French  fled  in 
the  evening,  Bonaparte  in  the  last  advance  set  his 
all  upon  the  cast.  Reserves,  and  supports  and  dis- 
positions for  retreat  belonged  not  to  such  a  thought, 
or  such  a  position  of  affairs.  If  British  officers  of 
judgment,  experience,  and  intrepidity,  could  (as  some 
of  them  did)  feel  a  doubt  about  the  issue  of  a  contest, 
which  even,  if  fatal,  would  have  left  England  laurels 
yet  brighter  than  those  of  Fontenoy,  we  may  yet, 
perhaps,  thank  the  god  of  battles  that  the  reckless 
resolution  of  Napoleon,  at  the  close  of  that  day,  had 
not  been  made  at  the  beginning. 

"  The  lot  is  cast  into  the  lap,  the  whole  disposing 
thereof  is  of  the  Lord."  Kingdoms  and  cottages,  prin- 
ces and  peasants  alike  the  objects.  The  man  beside 
me,  who  had  been  dragged  in  reluctant  alarm  before 
the  emperor,  and  compelled,  with  a  beating  heart  and 
a  bowing  head,  to  accompany  him  throughout  the  bat- 
tle, by  this  very  circumstance  has  become  possessed 
of  more  money  and  land  than  he  ever  dared  to  hope 
for;  has  a  thriving  family,  and  the  grateful  joy  of  his 
heart  keeps  him  hale,  cheerful,  and  strong.  The  de- 
feated king  has  closed  a  life  of  bitter  exile  in  the  grave. 


XV1U  INTRODUCTION. 

It  was  late,  and  chill,  and  dusk  when  I  drove  back 
to  Brussels:  remembered  poetry  is  the  solace  of  such 
hours. 

From  Brussels  I  went  to  Namur,  a  place  of  much 
interest .  thence  by  a  beautiful  route  to  Givet  and 
Charlemont.  On  the  road  I  saw  a  peasant's  f6te : 
they  were  dancing  stoutly  on  the  sward,  and  their 
orchestra  sate  in  a  waggon — a  picture  of  Tenier's 
realized. 

I  visited  Mezieres,  Sedan,  Verdun,  Metz,  Thion- 
ville,  Luxemburgh.  Metz  is  a  fine  city:  many  his- 
torical recollections  are  awakened  in  it,  as  also  at 
Thionville.  At  the  inn  here  I  found  a  young  Ger- 
man troubadour.  He  sung  ballads  for  me,  accom- 
panying himself  on  the  guitar.  It  came  to  my  thought 
as  he  sung,  standing  humble  in  the  corner  of  the  sa- 
loon, how  differently  at  the  old  court  of  Charle- 
magne, a  man  with  such  a  voice  and  touch  had  been 
received  (my  fellow  traveller  making  light  of  him). 
For  myself,  the  humblest  itinerant  musician  can  de- 
light me.  The  road  to  Luxemburgh  hcis  woods,  pla- 
teaux, positions  bringing  wars  and  military  names  to 
your  mind.  Among  the  latter,  that  of  the  great  Duke 
of  Alva  returning  defeated  from  Metz.  Luxemburgh 
is  a  strong  fortress,  and  a  most  romantic  spot.  There 
is  a  garden  suburb  in  the  gorge,  or  rather  at  the 
head  of  the  ravine,  above  which  Luxemburgh  is  built, 
the  situation  of  which  is  peculiar  and  beautiful  The 
wrhole  excursion  from  Brussels  was  delightful.  Part 
of  the  way  I  crossed  legs  in  a  diligence  with  the 
blood-red  trowsers  of  a  young  French  officer  of  the 
Ghasseurs-a-chevai,  and  found  French  military  talk 
at  all  the  tables  d'hote.  From  this  point  I  entered 
Germanv. 


NOTES  AND  K£FX*ECTIONS 

IX 

A  RAMBLE   TO  VIENNA, 

in   1825. 


The  common  sounds  in  the  cities  of  Germany  are 
the  clangour  of  military  bands,  the  ringing  of  iron 
boot-heels,  and  the  measured  tread  of  stately  sol- 
diers. These,  at  certain  hours  of  the  evening,  are 
varied  by  the  full  deep  chorus  of  the  slow-sung 
hymn,  or,  among  the  assembled  youth  of  both  sexes, 
by  the  soft  and  pleasing  movements  of  the  waltz. 
The  sights  every  where  correspond  with  the  cha- 
racter of  these  sounds,  and  both  are  found  on  the 
very  threshold  of  the  land. 

The  approach  to  Treves  from  Luxemburgh  is  sin- 
gularly beautiful ;  the  Moselle  bears  you  company  ; 
the  vale  through  which  it  flows  is  flat  and  fertile, 
while  on  either  side  rise  hills,  lofty  enough  to  be 
picturesque,  and  lovely,  inasmuch  as  they  are  fruit- 
ful, being  for  the  most  part  laid  out  in  vineyards. 

The  city  lies  in  the  narrowest  part  of  the  valle^, 
1 


20  GERMANY. 

and  shows  fair.  The  suburbs  are  prettily  scattered., 
east  and  west  of  it,  and  are  adorned  with  several 
large  and  fine-looking  churches. 

"  Ante  Roma  fuit,  stetit  Teveris,"  says  a  proud 
inscription  in  the  great  square  ;  a  very  fine  old  ruin, 
standing  at  a  short  yet  imposing  distance  from  the 
spot,  compels  the  reverence  of  the  traveller,  and 
confirms  the  pride  of  the  citizen.  They  tell  you 
that  it  was  used  as  a  Hall  of  Assembly  by  the  ancient 
Gauls,  and,  in  after  times,  by  their  Roman  conquer- 
ors, as  a  Capitol.  Whatever  doubts  disturb  or  de- 
stroy such  illusion  afterwards,  for  the  moment  the 
vain  tradition  gives  pleasure,  and  assists  the  memory 
in  her  backward  flight*.  But  Treves  has  a  great 
charm  for  the  unaccustomed  eye  ; — the  whole  place 
is  an  antique  ; — the  houses  are  of  quaint  irregular 
forms,  all  sizes,  all  shapes,  and  of  no  order ;  here,  a  lii- 
tle  old  bay-windowed  yellow  house,  leaning  fairly  on 
one  side  ;  there,  a  tall  bright-red  mansion,  with  carv- 
ed window-frames,  and  high  masking  fronts  of  every 
variety.  Peasant  women,  too,  pass  across  the  square, 
with  stiff  white  caps,  flat  as  the  forage-caps  of  Aus- 
trian dragoons,  wnich,  seen  at  a  distance  in  the  fields, 
they  greatly  resemble,  but,  near*  you  recognize  them 
at  once  as  old  acquaintances, — as  a  costume  familiar 
to  the  eye  in  engravings  from  Albert  Durer,  and  the 
old  masters  of  his  day.  The  nearest  shop-window 
exhibits  no  books  for  sale,  but  volumes  of  forbidding 
black  letter,  in  which  the  unalterable  German  will 
go  on  reading  his  rich  but  rugged  tongue  for  ever, 
in  utter  contempt  of  the  fair  Roman  character,  which 
all  the  other  nations  of  Europe  have,  by  common 
consent,  adopted. 

I  like  the  German,  however,  the  better  for  this, 
and  the  very  sight  of  the  type  in  which  old  Chaucer 


GERMANY.  £1 

was  imprinted,  begets  a  kind  feeling  in  the  bosom  of 
the  English  traveller  towards  the  country  and  the 
people  he  is  about  to  visit.  It  is  not  a  little  remark- 
able to  observe,  how  much  among  these  people  the 
French  had  found  it  impossible  to  change.  Although 
for  nearly  twenty  years  Treves  had  been  the  chef 
lieu  of  a  department  under  the  republic,  and  the  em- 
pire of  France,  yet  was  there  no  sound  in  the  streets 
but  German,  and  in  several  of  the  shops  which  I 
entered,  they  could  not  reply  to  a  question  in  the 
French  language. 

The  principal  hotel,  the  Maison  rouge,  was  full, 
and  I  could  only  find  place  in  the  Hotel  de  Venise. 
Here  I  got  an  excellent  apartment,  and  was  civilly 
treated.  However,  not  one  servant  in  the  house 
spoke  French,  so  that  here  my  amusing  but  easily- 
mastered  difficulties  began.  I  arrived  time  enough 
to  take  an  evening  saunter  round  the  city.  In  the 
cabarets  I  heard  good  harmonious  singing,  as  i  pass- 
ed them  by,  and  I  met  soldiers  at  every  step.  The 
fields  and  gardens  were  balmy  and  still ;  but,  here 
again,  soldiers.  I  met  some  squadrons  of  cavalry 
returning  from  their  watering ;  and  afterwards,  in  a 
more  retired  lane,  three  young  officers,  riding  in  that 
q':iet  way  the  Germans  love.  As  1  passed  home- 
wards, 1  made  for  a  stately  building  that  looked  like 
a  palace ;  it  was  formerly  the  Prince  Bishop's,  now 
the  barrack  Gf  Prussian  lancers. 

The  day  following  was  a  grand  holiday,  being  the 
king  of  Prussia's  birth-day.  Few  of  his  Majesty's 
subjects  enjoyed  it  more  than  I  did.  It  is  a  fine  old 
cathedral,  the  service  was  well  performed,  and  the 
instrumental  music  excellent.  I  felt  a  strange,  stir- 
ring delight  as,  in  parts,  the  harsh  brattle  of  the 
drum,  and  the  stern  notes  of  the  brazen  trumpets^ 


22  GERMANY. 

mingled  with  the  solemn  song  of  praise.  It  was  im- 
possible to  rein  the  fancy,  and  she  was  busy  in  other 
scenes, — scenes  naturally  suggesting  themselves  to 
a  soldier's  mind,  and  forming  a  very  painful  and  ex- 
citing contrast  to  that  before  me,  where  quiet  citi- 
zens, and  gay -dressed  women,  and  happy  school-boys, 
were  crowded  opposite  the  choir,  all  eye  and  ear. 
There  ivas  a  grand  parade  of  the  troops,  after  high 
mass,  for  divine  service,  according  to  the  Protestant 
form  of  worship.  There  were  three  battalions  of 
infantry,  and  a  regiment  of  lancers.  These  were 
formed  in  a  very  compact,  deep  square,  the  lancers 
mounted,  exactly  filling  the  outer  faces.  Nothing 
could  possibly  be  conducted  with  greater  decency  or 
propriety  than  this  service  :  there  was  no  haste,  no 
irreverence,  throughout  the  whole  ;  a  great  part  of 
the  soldiers  used  their  prayer-books,  and  numbers 
knelt.  At  certain  parts  all  the  troops,  both  horse 
and  foot,  sate,  stood,  or  kneeled,  bareheaded.  The 
music  was  very  solemn.  A  hymn  sung  by  a  vocal 
band  produced  a  moving  and  sweet  effect.  At  the 
close  a  sermon  of  some  length  was  delivered  by  the 
chaplain,  with  considerable  earnestness  of  manner. 
He  wore  on  his  head  that  square  old  cap  which 
the  reader  may  have  often  seen  in  the  engraved 
portraits  of  our  martyrs:  it  was  altogether  a  fine 
picture.  The  very  instant  the  worthy  man  conclud- 
ed his  discourse,  at  a  given  signal,  the  artillery  fired 
their  thundering  salutes  ;  the  troops  deployed,  form- 
ed in  open  column,  and  marched  past.  I  placed 
myself  directly  in  rear  of  the  General,  and  close  to 
him.  The  men  were  uncommonly  clean,  well  set- 
up, young,  and  handsome ;  the  bands  were  loud- 
breathing  and  martial ;  but  the  very  tread  of  the 
platoons  was  music;  and  they  turned  their  full,  proud 


GERMANY.  23 

eyes  on  the  General,  after  a  noble  manner,  that  fill- 
ed mine  with  thick  and  dimming  tears.  I  shook 
twenty  years  from  my  shoulders  as  I  thought  upon 
my  first  review,  and  the  then  swelling  of  my  fresh 
and  hopeful  heart. 

The  General  was  a  little  man,  grave,  and  grey- 
headed, with  clear,  intelligent  eyes,  and  sate  quite 
erect  on  his  charger,  a  chesnut  horse,  of  the  exact 
cut  of  that  which  old  Fritz,  of  glorious  memory,  is 
always  represented  as  mounted  on, — a  Prussian  cor- 
net, perhaps,  of  the  day,  when  the  black  eagle  was 
the  terror  of  battle-fields.  Those  times  have  pass- 
ed away, — all  must  wonder  how,  as  they  look  upon 
the  firm  march,  the  free  carriage,  and  the  brave 
bearing  of  the  soldiery  of  Prussia.  It  is,  however, 
here  necessary  to  observe,  that  the  obligation  now 
imposed  on  every  subject  of  that  kingdom,  to  serve 
in  the  ranks  of  her  army  for  a  given  period  of  three 
years,  or  never  less  than  one,  is  felt  find  complained 
of  as  a  heavy  grievance,— I  think  with  reason.  Sure 
I  am  that  a  large  number  of  young  persons  are  re- 
turned into  the  bosom  of  civil  society  very  ill  fitted 
to  pursue  peaceful  and  laborious  occupations  in  hum- 
ble contentment ;  while  others  again  are  compelled, 
for  a  season  (and  that  the  most  important  of  their 
existence),  to  a  mode  of  life,  a  discipline,  and  a 
treatment,  which  they  find  irksome,  revolting,  and 
abhorrent.  I  particularly  allude  to  the  poorer  gen- 
try, and  persons  in  the  easy  middle  class,— or  rather, 
perhaps,  I  should  say,  to  the  parents  of  the  youths 
taken  from  these  classes,  who  have  not  the  wish, 
perhaps,  certainly  have  not  the  hope,  of  seeing  their 
sons  commissioned  as  officers,  and  are  alike  pained 
and  alarmed  for  their  morals,  and  their  happiness, 
when  taken  from  under  their  owrn  eve,  and  placed 
1* 


fet  GERMAIN  V. 

among  the  chance  companions,  which  regiments  thus 
composed  must  furnish.  This  universal  soldiership 
is  assuredly  a  curse  ;  the  enlisting  of  men  for  a  term 
of  many  years  forms  better  soldiers,  and  spoils  few- 
er citizens.  I  mean  not  by  this  to  speak  of  regular 
soldiers  as  more  immoral  than  other  classes  of  socie- 
ty ;  for  I  do  not  think  this  often-hazarded  assertion 
to  be  true.  In  all  good  corps  soldiers  are  looked 
after  by  their  officers  like  children,  and  they  very 
soon  become  well  conducted,  if  not  from  the  highest 
motives,  yet  from  habit,  and  for  peace-sake :  but  the 
case  is,  of  necessity,  widely  different,  where  men, 
all  young,  are  gathered  together  for  a  short  period 
of  service,  oftentimes  with  more  money  at  their 
command  than  a  private  soldier  ought  ever  to  be 
possessed  of,  and  with  smart  uniforms,  personal  ad- 
vantages, and  a  handsome  carriage,  become  the  ob- 
jects for  low  gamblers  and  designing  females  to  fasten 
on  and  destroy.  Doubtless  many  such,  their  "  three 
years  of  heroship  expired,"  return  to  their  homes  lost 
and  polluted  men,  and  spread  wide  the  taint  of  im- 
morality. 

1  walked  in  the  evening  up  a  hill  to  the  south  of 
the  city,  turning,  .as  saunterers  do,  at  every  fifty 
paces,  to  look  down  upon  the  fair  valleyr  beneath. 
I  wonder  not  that,  at  a  very  early  period,  the  claris- 
simi  Treviri  stayed  their  wandering  camp,  and  fixed 
it  here  ;  for  nothing  can  be  more  pleasant  to  the  eye 
than  this  fertile  and  well-watered  plain.  As  I  was 
gazing  on  this  prospect,  I  heard  a  little  murmuring 
of  young  voices,  in  a  hollow  way,  near  the  field  in 
which  1  stood,  and,  going  to  the  bank,  J  saw  a  fami- 
ly, consisting  of  three  little  girls  and  their  mother, 
walking  up  the  steep  lane,  slowly  and  singly,  the 
youngest   first,    their   hands  joined    together,   an3 


germain nt. 

pointing  upwards,  and  their  rosaries  hanging  down 
from  them.  The  children  had  fair  hair,  that  fell  in 
braids,  and  voices  clear  and  innocent.  The  mother 
was  mantled  and  pale,  and  moved  her  lips  in  deeper 
and  sadder  tones.  1  followed  at  an  undisturbing  dis- 
tance, and  marked  them  gain  a  rude  shrine  of  the 
virgin,  They  stood  before  it  long,  repeating  prayers, 
and  they  bowed  down,  and  kneeled  in  the  dust.  It 
was  the  sun-set  hour;  when  they  passed  away,  1  went 
to  the  spot.  Nothing  could  be  ruder  than  the  image 
of  our  lady.  In  a  guide-book  on  Treves,  which  I 
had  read  that  very  morning,  were  these  lines  quot- 
ed from  Lucan,  as  descriptive  of  the  religion  of  their 
earliest  ancestors : — 

"  Simulacraque  moesta  Deorum 
Arte  carent,  csesisque  extant  informia  truncis." 

Perhaps  then,  as  now,  the  widowed  heart  found  in 
its  pilgrim  walk  to  a  rude  and  shapeless  image  like 
this,  only  called  by  another  name,  some  comfort,  and 
a  peace  permitted  by,  or  rather  given  from,  heaven. 
The  sighing  service  of  sorrow  is  always,  1  believe, 
heard,  and  speeded  by  angels  and  ministers  of  grace. 
I  passed  down  through  vineyards  to  the  ruins  of 
an  ancient  Roman  theatre,  which  have  been  well 
cleared  out,  and  may  be  very  distinctly  traced. 
Thence,  in  the  greyer  dusk,  I  walked  homewards. 
My  steps  were  arrested,  for  some  minutes,  near  a 
summer-house,  by  the  sound  of  soft  waltz  music. 
As  I  entered  the  dark  streets  the  windows  were 
shaking  to  the  doubling  drums  and  piercing  trumpets 
of  the  garrison.  They  ceased,  and  in  a  short  mo- 
ment the  city  was  hushed  and  silent.  Such  days  the 
traveller  does  not  readily  forget.  I  was  dragged  in 
one*  however,  and  glad  to  be  so:  from  Treves  to 


*tf  GERMANY. 

Coblentz.  The  better  way,  if  the  season  admits  of 
it,  is  to  take  a  boat,  and  drop  down  the  river  Mo- 
selle, an  excursion  which  1  am  told  is  very  delight- 
ful and  rewarding. 

The  descent  into  the  valley  of  the  Rhine,  as  you 
approach  Coblentz,  presents  a  most  noble  scene.  I 
had  reason  to  rejoice  that  I  was  disappointed  of  find- 
ing quarters  at  the  grea^t  hotel  in  the  square,  for  the 
window  of  my  chamber  at  "  Les  trois  Suisses"  looked 
out  upon  the  glorious  Rhine,  and  up  to  the  castled 
rock  of  Ehrenbreitstein.  I  was  long  before  I  could 
leave  the  casement  to  satisfy  my  appetite  at  table  in 
the  salon,  and  I  giadly  returned  to  it.  The  moon 
sailed  high  and  bright  among  clouds  that,  at  times, 
for  a  minute,  shadowed  her,  and  gave  an  indescriba- 
ble sublimity  to  the  stern  and  stately  fortress,  and  to 
the  flowing  river,  as  it  rolled  darkling  beneath  the 
deeper  and  blacker  shade  of  the  scarped  rock.  I 
slept  to  open  my  eyes  on  the  same  glorious  objects, 
seen  clear  in  the  sober  colours  of  a  dawning  sum- 
mer's day.  I  rose  immediately,  and  walked  up  to 
the  height,  called  Wilhamstadt,  from  the  works 
erected  there.  The  prospect  from  it  is  wide  and 
various,  and  full  of  such  glory  as  meeting  rivers  and 
broad  vales  of  cultivation,  enlivened  by  towns  and 
villages,  must  ever  display.  Moreover,  here  there 
are  blue  mountains  in  the  distance,  and  nearer,  a 
vista  of  the  Rhine  descending  between  lofty  hills, 
picturesquely  broken  in  their  forms,  and  crowned 
with  grey  and  shattered  towers,  and  chapels  still 
white  and  in  honour.  The  leisure  walking  about 
Coblentz  i  found  very  delightful,  from  the  novelty 
of  the  scene,  and  the  new  impressions  of  the  peo- 
ple, which  my  eye  gathered  for  me  as  I  sauntered 
through  the  streets.    I  like  a  market-place  every 


GERMANY.  27 

where,  especially  in  a  foreign  land.  I  like  to  see 
peasant  ivomen  in  the  costume,  which  their  great- 
great  grandmothers  have  worn  before  them.  The 
females  of  the  lower  orders  here  have  a  coarse, 
hardy  handsomeness ;  their  fair  complexions  have 
been  sunburned  in  harvest-fields,  and  their  flaxen 
hair  yellowed  in  summer  labours:  they  force  it  back 
from  their  cheeks  and  temples,  and  confine  it  behind 
beneath  a  small  coif,  or  caplet  of  a  gilt  tissue,  or 
some  flowered  pattern  ;  and  their  countenances,  na- 
turally open,  assume  an  expression  of  honesty  very 
prepossessing.  There  is  a  fearlessness  of  regard 
altogether  distinct  from  immodesty,  and  there  is  a 
something  very  guileless  in  their  manner  of  meeting 
and  talking  with  each  other.  I  stood  long  in  one  of 
the  streets  before  a  shop-window  filled  with  pipe- 
heads  :  the  devices  painted  on  these  have  an  infinite 
variety,  and  are  generally  executed  and  finished  with 
great  neatness  and  taste.  They  furnish  you  with  a 
very  pleasing  feature  in  the  German  character ;  the 
city  of  his  birth,  the  leader  after  his  heart,  the  pa- 
tron saint,  or  the  revered  reformer,  the  poet,  the 
painter,  the  hill,  the  stream,  the  flower,  that  best 
he  loves,  is  borne  by  the  German,  figured  on  the 
pipe,  from  which  he  is  never  separated,  wander 
where  he  may,  as  a  treasured  possession, — a  talis- 
man of  happy  power. 

I  attended  a  public  concert  in  the  evening.  The 
performers  were  few,  but  excellent — the  ensemble 
perfect.  A  female  from  the  Opera  at  Breslau  sung 
two  Italian  airs  correctly,  and  well,  but  not  at  all  to 
charm.  There  was  enough  in  the  room,  however, 
to  charm  any  observer.  Some  of  the  young  Ger- 
man girls  of  eighteen  appeared  to  me  simple  in  both 
manner  and  dress  as  our  children  ;  no  effort  at  dis- 


28  GERMANY. 

play, — hair  without  other  adornment  than  the  falling 
braids,  and  round  the  waist  the  sash,  the  broad  ribbon 
sash.  Whither  has  it  fled,  ye  gentles  of  England? 
whither  has  this  lightest  and  most  graceful  of  zones 
fled  ?  and  by  what  has  it  been  replaced  ?  The  ladies 
were  all  seated  ;  several  of  the  gentlemen  stood. 
Against  the  wall  leaned  a  groupe  of  German  youths, 
and  boys ;  many  of  them  from  sixteen  to  eighteen 
years  of  age,  yet  they  wore  the  open  neck, — the 
white,  and  falling  shirt-collar :  their  shining  hair 
hung  down  long  and  waving,  and  was  just  parted  on 
the  forehead  their  fine  complexions,  and  expres- 
sive countenances,  varied  to  each  movement,  and 
their  eyes  were  affectionately  fixed  on  the  perform- 
ers with  a  jealous  intentness,  lest  they  should  lose  a 
single  note  of  the  music.  The  silence  of  a  German 
audience  in  a  concert  is  perfect ;  the  reproof  of  even 
the  slightest  rustle  may  be  read  on  every  forehead 
throughout  the  assembly.  In  the  interval  between 
the  acts  the  conversation  is  cheerful  and  buzzing. 

At  the  close  1  returned  to  my  table  d'hote,  where 
I  had  occasion  to  observe  that  exact  contrast  of  cha- 
racter, which  all  societies  present,  but  none  more 
frequently,  and  in  greater  strength,  than  those  com- 
posed of  military  men.  At  the  upper  part  of  the 
table  sate  two  Prussian  officers,  engaged  in  conver- 
sation, whose  minds  and  hearts  looked  out  from  their 
eyes  after  the  noblest  manner  ;  at  the  bottom  sate 
two  younger  officer-  well  dressed,  and  not  ill  looking, 
conversing  with  loudness,  and  having  essentially 
vulgar  minds.  This,  without  understanding  three 
words  spoken  by  either  party,  I  would  have  staked 
my  bottle  of  Laubenheim,  and  pleasant  Seitzer  water 
upon.  One  word  to  such  travellers,  as,  bringing 
with  them,  from  Ensrlish  universities,  an  instilled 


GERMANY.  gfi 

ami,  perhaps,  a  useful  prejudice  against  the  armies, 
and  officers  of  Germany,  incline  to  despise  all  that 
is  uttered  by  lips  hidden  under  mustachios,  or  that 
is  accompanied  in  its  going  forth  by  a  cloud  of  smoke 
from  the  genuine  meerschaum  pipe.  Be  sure,  quite 
sure  of  your  strength  before  you  let  out  on  any  sub- 
ject connected  with  the  classics,  the  belles  lettres,  the 
arts  or  sciences,  at  a  table  filled  with  Prussian  officers. 

In  the  morning  1  visited  the  church  of  St.  Castor, 
and  found  it  decorated  for  a  festival,  and  filled  with 
a  holiday-clad  congregation.  Between  the  columns, 
and  around  them,  and  on  the  walls,  hung  rich,  thick 
festoons  of  oak  leaves  smelling  fresh  from  the  forest  ; 
orange  trees  and  handsome  shrubs  had  been  brought 
from  some  conservatory,  and  prettily  disposed  about 
the  church.  The  altars  were  dressed  in  fresh  ga- 
thered flowers,  and  all  the  pictures  had  their  frames 
richly  concealed  in  like  manner.  The  service  was 
reverently  performed,  and  the  Te  Deum  well  sung ; 
but  when,  in  parts,  the  whole  congregation  joined 
in  the  psalmody,  and  the  assembled  voices  rose  in 
one  full  harmonious  note  of  praise,  I  felt  a  deep  and 
hallowed  happiness.  The  devotional  singing  of  the 
Germans  is  of  the  very  highest  order;  they  observe 
a  slow,  and  measured  time,  and  preserve  a  fine  ac- 
cord. Moreover,  they  are  sincere  and  solemn ;  the 
tones  seem  to  come  up  from  the  depth  of  their 
hearts:  the  eyes  are  not  turned  fanatically  upwards, 
or  wandering  coldly  about ;  they  have  a  fixed,  se- 
rious, abstracted  gaze,  prayerful  and  true. 

In  the  course  of  my  rambles  about  the  city  I  met 
a  groupe  of  boys  returning  from  school.  Young  as 
they  were,  their  gait,  and  carriage,  was  already 
erect,  and  martial,  even  to  the  coarse  stamp  of  their 
military  boots;  and,   instead  of  satchels  for  their 


30  GERMANY. 

well-thumbed  Caesars,  all  their  books  were  packed 
in  little  knapsacks  fitted  square  upon  their  young 
shoulders. 

I  walked  out  to  the  tomb  of  General  Marceau 
alone  :  his  early  laurels,  his  early  death,  and  the 
memorable  circumstances  of  his  honoured  funeral, 
invest  it  with  a  mild  glory,  which  shines  but  rarely 
on  the  grave  of  a  warrior.  His  remains  lie  imme- 
diately under  a  fort,  where,  in  all  future  continental 
wars,  there  will  be  red  artillery  flashing  upon  the 
tomb  that  guards  them. 

A  lame  commissionaire,  such  an  one  as  is  to  be 
found  at  the  gateway  of  every  hotel  in  every  large 
town  upon  the  Rhine,  and  who  is  generally  one  of 
those  "  broken  tools  that  tyrants  cast  away,"  pro- 
cured for  me  the  regular  permission  to  visit  Ehren- 
breitstein,  and  accompanied  me.  As  we  walked 
slowly  up  the  hill  1  gathered  his  brief  tale.  A  na- 
tive of  the  city,  he  had  seen  a  regiment  of  French 
hussars  pass  through,  and  had  followed  their  for- 
tunes. He  had  served  in  Spain  and  Russia,  as  all 
these  poor  fellows  have,  or  say  they  have.  But 
here,  from  his  relation  of  a  particular  circumstance, 
I  was  satisfied  that  I  was  walking  by  the  side  of  a 
man  who  had  been  drenched  by  the  very  same  mid- 
night rain,  and,  after  a  morning  of  rude  greetings  in 
the  field,  had  been  dried  by  the  same  welcomed  sun- 
beams as  myself  some  fourteen  years  ago. 

The  works  of  the  fortress  have  again  arisen  in 
considerable  strength,  but  much  remains  to  be  done. 
According  to  the  rate  at  which  they  now  labour,  and 
the  number  of  men  they  employ,  it  would  take  seven 
or  eight  years  to  complete  them  :  this  the  old  Prus- 
sian bombardier  who  showed  them  observed,  adding, 


GERMAN  V.  ol 

with  gravity,  that  there  was  no  hurry,  as  there  would 
be  plenty  of  time.  I  hope,  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart,  that  he  may  be  right ;  but  to  think  of  a  grey- 
headed old  soldier,  who  can  remember,  within  the 
narrow  space  of  ten  short  years,  two  such  days  as 
those  of  Jena  and  the  triumphal  entry  into  Paris, 
thus  speaking, — as  if  havoc  were  never  to  be  cried 
again,  and  the  dogs  of  war  chained  up  for  ever. 
From  the  wails  I  looked  out  upon  the  same  magnifi- 
cent scene  I  have  already  spoken  of,  as  discovered 
from  Williamstadt,  and  traced  the  extensive  works, 
which,  on  every  side,  protect  Cobientz,  and  the  calm 
meeting  of  the  Moselle  and  the  Rhine.  There  is  a 
handsome  church  in  this  lofty  fort  bomb-proof.  There 
is  always  a  great  stillness  about  a  church  ;  even  if  it 
be  an  erection  of  yesterday,  it  breathes  composure 
on  the  visitor;  but  to  be  reminded  by  the  word  bomb- 
proof, that  it  is  designed  for  that  hurried  worship, 
which,  amid  the  alarms  and  tumults  of  a  siege,  is 
the  only  service  that  can  be  joined  in  by  a  belted 
soldiery,  awoke  in  me  the  thought  that  there  was 
nothing  more  difficult  for  regularly  educated  clergjT- 
men  than  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  soldiers ;  and  that, 
in  the  course  of  a  long  period  of  military  service, 
I  could  scarce  summon  to  my  recollection  one  single 
discourse,  delivered  by  a  chaplain,  which  met  the 
minds,  habits,  feelings,  and  spiritual  wants  of  private 
soldiers.  I  shall  be  told  Christianity  is  the  same 
everywhere,  and  at  all  times,  and  among  all  classes 
of  society.  True  ;  but  to  preach  it  in  the  carpeted 
drawing  room  is  one  thing,  to  preach  it  in  the  open 
camp  is  another ;  to  keep  Sabbath  where  bells  do 
knoll  for  church  is  one  thing,  to  keep  it  in  your  shut 
heart  amid  the  stir  of  a  line  of  march  is  another  ;  at 


o2  GERMANY. 

least  I  think  so,  and  I  have  often  wished  to  see  a 
helping  volume  for  the  tent  and  the  guard-room  :  but 
yet  I  so  reverence  the  ark,  that  I  almost  fear  to  see 
a  soldier's  hand  on  it. 

I  took  a  caliche  to  myself  from  Coblentz  to  Maynz, 
that  I  might  linger  on  the  way.  Leaving  Cobientz 
after  dinner,  I  passed  to  St.  Goar,  where  I  slept :  the 
route  is  never  to  be  forgotten;  much  is  felt,  but 
little  can  be  said  upon  it.  It  is  a  blending  of  all 
beauties;  cliff  and  ruin,  wood  and  crag,  vines  and 
happy-looking  dwellings, — dwellings,  old  in  their 
fashion,  and  solid  in  their  aspect ;  thresholds  of  worn 
stone  that  have  been  stepped  over  by  many  genera- 
tions; and  vine-clad  porches  that  have  shaded  many 
a  wayworn  traveller  as  he  partook  the  free  hospita- 
lity of  kind  owners  smiling  in  peace  and  abundance. 

J  strongly  recommend  an  evening  at  the  post-house 
of  St.  Goar  to  all  traveller?,  for,  if  it  is  still  what  I 
found  it,  they  will  meet  with  cleanliness,  tranquillity, 
and  civil  treatment :  moreover,  the  site  is  most  beau- 
tiful. 

While ^they  were  preparing  my  supper  I  took  a 
walk.  Walks  at  the  hour  of  dusk  are  ever  soothing 
and  pleasant,  but  especially  so  on  the  bank  of  a  fine 
river :  the  flow  is  heard  more  solemn  in  the  still- 
ness, and  the  glassy  light  of  broad  and  gliding  waters 
is  seen  with  a  more  thoughtful  feeling.  At  a  bend 
of  the  stream  1  saw  some  figures  approaching  in  the 
distance,  and  presently  they  broke  out  into  singing, 
— it  was  a  hymn.  They  passed  me  linked  hand  in 
hand,  and  my  heart's  blessing  went  after  them  as 
their  forms  disappeared,  and  their  voices  died  away. 

The  ruin  of  Rheinfels,  above  St.  Goar,  is  well  de- 
serving a  visit :  it  has  been  in  succession  convent. 


GERMANY.  >:; 

castle,  and  fort.  In  this  last  character  it  was  surren- 
dered or  betrayed  to  the  French,  on  the  first  sum- 
mons, during  the  war  of  the  revolution  ;  by  them  it 
was  blown  up.  A  weedy  garden  the  painted  walls 
of  a  music  room,  and  spacious  cellars,  tell  of  mirth, 
music,  and  the  wine-cup  ;  while  a  few  horrible  dun- 
geon tombs,  resembling  the  famed  oubliettes,  remind 
you  that  there  are  more  passions  in  the  human 
breast  than  the  one  of  love,  and  other  sighs  in  this 
our  world  than  those  of  lovers 

On  your  route  towards  Bingen  you  pass  under  a 
rocky  height,  called  the  Lurleyberg,  where  there  is 
an  echo.  Of  this  echo  your  postilion  is  too  proud 
to  remain  silent ;  he  disturbs  the  solitude  with  his 
shout,  and  smiles  back  in  your  face,  as  he  is  answered 
by  obedient  Pan. 

The  site  of  the  castle  of  Schonberg,  as  you  pass 
forward,  is  very  picturesque.  The  town  of  Ober- 
wesel  stands  prettily  ;  there  is  a  ruined  church,  and 
another  beautifully  clothed  with  ivy,  which  demand 
a  passing  visit  Here,  too,  is  a  small  chapel,  dedi- 
cated to  the  memory  of  a  youthful  martyr  and 
canonized  saint,  named  Werner,  who  is  said  to  have 
suffered  a  death  at  the  hands  of  the  Jews,  many  cen- 
turies ago,  under  circumstances  of  the  most  aggra- 
vated cruelty  and  horror.  The  legend  is  similar  to 
that  related  by  the  prioress  in  Chaucer's  tales,  and 
to  that  other  preserved  in  the  old  ballad  styled  Hugh 
of  Lincoln. 

A  wine-press  and  a  cottage  stand  in  the  same 
enclosure  with  the  chapel,  and  the  good  people  keep 
the  key,  and  open  it  for  strangers.  It  is  dilapidated, 
but  not  altogether  in  ruins.  The  windows  are  bro- 
ken, indeed,  and  the  damp  air  is  busy  on  the  walls  ; 


o4  GERMANY. 

but  devotees  still  visit  and  kneel  before  the  altar, 
over  which  hangs  a  very  horrid  picture  of  this  mar- 
tyrdom. It  represents  the  victim  youth  suspended 
with  his  head  downwards,  and  several  Jews  in  the 
act  of  lancing  his  body  with  knives,  and  taking  from 
it  goblets  of  blood.  Although  the  mind  rejects  at 
once  the  interested  invention  of  the  miracles,  which, 
in  all  these  cases,  are  recorded  as  having  followed  on 
such  sacrifice,  by  rendering  it  impossible  for  the 
perpetrators  of  the  crime  to  bury  or  conceal  the 
mangled  corpse  of  their  victim,  which  is,  in  every 
case,  stated  to  have  spoken  out  after  the  extinction 
of  life,  it  is  not  easy  to  refuse  belief  to  the  simple 
fact  of  a  Christian  child  having  been  murdered  by 
Jews  at  one  of  these  places,  if  not  at  all.  I  cannot, 
however,  credit  the  monstrous  tale,  that  it  was  a 
deliberate  practice  of  that  persecuted  sect  to  sacrifice 
annually  a  Christian  child  in  solemn  assembly.  In 
Asia,  to  this  very  day,  the  boys  in  the  streets  will 
spit  upon  and  jeer  at  the  Jew.  Now,  we  may 
readily  imagine  that  the  laughing  taunts  of  children, 
and  their  practical  insults,  would  exasperate  the 
spirit  of  hunted  and  irritated  men,  even  to  madness  ; 
and  this  may  account,  I  think,  for  children  having 
been  the  chance  victims  of  a  people,  at  once  vindic- 
tive and  timid.  In  the  ballad  of  Hugh  of  Lincoln, 
the  boys  are  represented  playing  at  foot-ball,  and  the 
one  who  afterwards  suffers,  as  kicking  it  through  a 
Jew's  window.  This  more  strongly  inclines  me  to 
an  opinion,  in  which  I  wish  to  be  confirmed,  rather 
than  be  compelled  to  admit  that  such  puttings  to 
death  were  solemn  and  sacrificial.  In  either  view 
none  can  deny  to  the  subject  a  very  deep  and  affect- 


GERJIANY.  35 

ing  interest.     The  mother  is  thus  wonderfully  de- 
picted in  Chaucer : — 

"  %l)\&  poore  tmaofo  aaxutetf)  ai  $e  nigljt 
3ftsr  fjer  Uttfs  rf)itoe,  ana  lie  came  nought : 
jFor  M)\t\)  as  socme  as  it  teas  na^ligljt, 
WL\t\)  face  pale  for  Brene  arm  kixw  tfjougfjt, 
^e  Ijatl)  at  gemote  ann  ekeWjere  Ijim  wmgfjt, 
'Citt  finalfe  slje  gan  5fo  farce  aspie 
'Cijat  fje  last  eene  tats  in  tije  3Ietorie# 

cilStit^  mother  pitie  in  %u  test  endows 
%\)%  gotlj  ag  sl)e  tore  Ijalfe  out  of  fcer  minnc 
%*  tlnty  place,  foljere  %\)i  fjatfc  supposes 
3$2  Ufceliljooo  tier  cljilu  for  to  finse  x 
Qiixn  tint  on  CJjristes  mother  goon  ana  fcintis 
€>lje  criea," — 

Forgive  me,  reader,  I  could  not  choose  but  quote 
these  lines ;  forgive  me  for  that  one, — 

With  face  pale  for  drede  and  busy  thought. 

Remember,  too,   that  these   tales  and  these  verses 
are  in  black  letter,  true  German  text. 

The  scenery  onward  continues  rich,  romantic,  and 
varied ;  the  famous  stone,  near  Bacharach,  called 
the  Altar  of  Bacchus,  shone  smooth,  dry,  and  hot 
above  the  bosom  of  the  Rhine,  giving  promise  of  a 
full  and  fruitful  vintage.  Of  the  vineyards  on  this 
route,  pictoriaily  speaking,  1  must  observe,  that  they 
are  generally  more  honoured  and  bepraised,  by  tra- 
vellers and  poets,  than  their  appearance  warrants. 
They  rise  on  rapid  slopes,  and,  in  many  instances, 
on  narrow  slips  of  land,  which  are  forced  to  be  pro- 
tected and  built  up  by  low-walled  embankments. 
Tn  all  of  them  the  brown  surface  of  the  earth  bears 


36  GERMANY. 

so  large  a  proportion  to  that  clad  in  the  verdure  or' 
the  plant,  that  the  general  effect,  were  it  not  for 
the  association  of  ideas,  would  be  almost  painful; 
it  would  seem  to  the  mere  gaze  as  if  vegetation  was 
struggling  weakly  and  in  vain  upon  a  barren  and 
ungrateful  soil.  The  vine  trelliced  is  every  where 
beautiful,  or  when  trained  in  festoons,  as  in  Lom- 
bardy ;  or  when,  on  a  wide  flat  vineyard,  the  bushes 
show  thick,  and  you  cannot  get  sufficiently  above 
the  ground  to  view  its  nakedness. — But  I  feel  shame  ; 
it  is  a  pitiful  return  to  the  grapes  of  Hockheim,  and 
Laubenheim,  and  Rudesheim,  which  so  gladden  and 
strengthen  the  traveller's  heart,  to  criticise  the  as- 
pect of  the  gardens  where  they  grow  ;  it  is  like 
praising  a  real  good  fellow,  and  then  coldly  regret- 
ting that  he  is  plain. 

The  strange-looking,  many-windowed  inn  at  Bin- 
gen  was  empty  ;  so  that  I  sate  down  to  my  cover 
alone,  but  with  plenty  to  amuse  the  eye,  for  on  the 
papered  wall  were  depicted  the  French  triumphs  in 
Egypt,  and  pyramids,  palm-trees,  obelisks,  tents, 
Mamalukes  and  French  hussars  were  blended  around 
in  gay  and  unintelligible  confusion.  With  these 
objects  staring  me  in  the  face,  I  could  not  resist  the 
little  vanity  of  saying  that  I  had  been  in  Egypt, 
although  I  had  only  a  waiter  to  say  it  to. 

"  Est  ce  un  bon  pays,  Monsieur  ?  est  ce  qu'il  ya  du 
vin  ?"  The  Arab  always  asks  the  stranger  if  he  has 
dates  in  his  country  ?  Thus  it  is  men  are  bound  by 
the  fitted  gifts  of  Providence  to  their  own  allotted 
path  in  creation. 

In  this  place,  opposite  the  inn,  I  recollect  seeing 
a  young  mother,  and  her  first-born  child,  of  rare 
beauty  ;  and  the  playful  fondling  and  returned  ca- 
resses gave  me  a  picture  perfect  in  its  kind. 


GERMANY.  37 

There  is  a  garden  on  a  height  here,  with  a  ruined 
castle  in  the  midst  of  it.  The  whole  is  prettily  laid 
out  in  walks,  and  flower-plots,  with  arbours  and  rustic 
seats,  in  spots  commanding  the  finest  prospects. 

There  is  an  iEolian  harp  placed  in  the  ruined 
tower.  When  the  garden  was  empty,  and  the  shades 
of  evening  fell  thick,  and  ail  was  gloom  and  stillness, 
I  returned  and  leaned  long  against  the  locked  door, 
to  listen  to  that  fitful,  melancholy  music.  Such 
things  send  you  sad,  yet  happy  to  }rour  couch. 

The  route  to  Mayence  crosses  the  Rheingau  :  a 
blessed  abundance  smiled  all  round  ;  wide  corn-fields, 
grapes  in  the  blush,  and  fruit-trees,  in  long  avenues, 
on  the  very  road.  The  way-faring  traveller  gathers 
the  unmissed  apple  from  the  loaded  branch,  and 
rests  beneath  its  shade,  and  eats  it ;  and  no  one  says 
nay  to  him. 

The  view  of  Mayence,  on  the  road  from  Mieder 
Ingelheim,  is  very  fine  ;  at  the  gate  a  bronzed  old 
Austrian,  in  a  white  uniform,  demands  your  passport ; 
and  ten  yards  farther  you  meet  a  youthful,  fresh- 
complexioned  Prussian,  who  demands  it  again.  In 
short,  you  are  now  fairly  in  the  hands  of  the  high 
Allied  Powers,  for  they  garrison  this  noble  city  and 
important  post  between  them.  You  drive  down  a 
fine  broad  street  of  princely  old  mansions,  unoccu- 
pied, or  converted  to  some  public  use,  such  as  an 
office,  a  store,  or  a  barrack. 

It  was  the  hour  of  dinner  when  I  reached  the 
hotel,  and  a  scene  of  great  bustle  and  discomfort  it 
appeared  ;  a  long,  crowded  table  of  busy  feeders, 
and  unheeded  musicians  carelessly  playing  their  worst 
pieces.  The  next  day,  however,  when  1  was  neither 
hot  nor  dusty,  I  enjoyed  the  table  cPhote  much. 

Mayence  is,  to  my  eye,  a  very  interesting  place  ; 


38/  GERMANY. 

a  man  might  stand  rooted  for  a  whole  evening  in  the 
middle  of  its  long  bridge,  looking  down  that  une- 
qualled valley  of  the  Rhine  ;  and  long  might  he  lean 
over  the  parapet  of  its  promenade,  just  above  the 
confluence  of  the  Maine  and  the  Rhine  ;  and  long 
might  he  gaze  down  upon  the  city,  and  mark  that 
cathedral,  so  deeply  richly  red,  when,  at  the  sunset 
hour,  it  passes  through  a  glorious  course  of  changing 
tints,  till,  in  the  all-grey  dusk,  it  stands  black  and 
solemn  above  the  mass  of  habitations,  just  veiled  by 
the  rising  vapours.  The  evening  1  was  on  the  pro- 
menade there  was  music,  martial  music,  but  soft 
breathing,  as  if  to  win  the  hearts  of  women,  and  aid 
young  soldiers,  as  silently  they  walk  with  beauty, 
and  sigh  their  first  loves. 

Germany  has  been,  in  our  day,  one  vast  theatre 
of  war,  and  scarce  a  city  on  the  Rhine,  the  Danube, 
or  the  Elbe,  but  has  witnessed 

"  Sudden  partings,  such  as  press 
The  life  from  out  young  hearts." 

Knowing  this,  we  look  upon  young  German  lovers 
as  rejoicing  that  the  war-trumpet  cannot  startle  them 
in  that  sweet  dream  which  comes  not  twice  in  any 
life,  and  is  not  fairly  and  unbrokenly  slumbered 
through  by  one  in  a  million.  I  am  old,  but  I  cannot 
and  wish  not  to  forget  that  I  have  been  young. 
Germany  is  a  country  for  bringing  such  recollections 
home  to  the  hearts  of  all  men,  especially  of  soldiers. 
There  is  a  public  library  here,  a  museum,  many 
Roman  antiquities,  and  some  pictures  of  interest ; 
but  there  is  no  fine  building  to  receive  them,  and 
they  are  crowded  in  small  miserable  apartments, 
little  heeded  by  visitors.  This  gives  great  pain  to 
the  professors  and  citizens,  and  is  certainly  not  to 


GERMAIN  \. 

the  credit  of  the  Sovereign  Duke,  of  whose  indif- 
ference to  the  general  welfare  of  the  city,  as  well 
as  to  these  little  objects  of  their  pride,  they  largely 
complain.  In  weighing,  however,  the  discontent  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Mayence,  it  is  necessary  to  remem- 
ber that  they  were  greatly  favoured  by  France,  and 
greatly  enriched  by  the  constant  passage  of  her 
troops  into  Germany.  Here  the  French  soldier 
generously  spent  his  last  sous,  and,  crossing  the 
bridge,  here  he  left  his  conscience  to  rejoin  him 
with  his  arrears,  if  he  should  ever  chance  to  return. 

Among  the  lions  of  the  city,  the  Guttenburg  tablet 
ranks  high  :  at  the  time  of  my  visit  it  was  in  peculiar 
honour,  in  consequence  of  a  paper  war  between  a 
professor  of  Moguntia  and  Haarlem,  on  the  disputed 
title  of  the  former  city  to  the  glory  of  that  invention, 
which  has  so  largely  contributed  to  the  improvement 
and  the  happiness  of  man. 

In  the  citadel,  a  fine  broken  tower,  of  the  massive 
Roman  build,  recalls  the  name  and  renown  of  Drusus. 
The  traveller  is  conducted  to  view  and  ascend  it  by 
an  Austrian  orderly.  It  looks  down  proudly,  and 
rather  contemptuously  on  the  unpicturesque  forms  of 
the  modern  works,  and  upon  cannon,  those  meaner 
engines  that  in  the  day  of  Rome  were  not. 

In  the  cathedral  are  found  many  old  tombs,  to 
which  the  vergers  long  tale  is  attached  ;  but  none 
does  he  tell  more  briefly,  and  before  none  does  the 
visitor  stand  so  long,  or  with  so  delighted  a  feeling, 
as  that  of  Frauenlob  the  Minnesanger.  The  sculp- 
ture is  small,  and  quaint :  eight  gentle  dames  are 
represented  as  supporting  his  bier :  such  were  the 
funeral  honours  of  Henry  of  Meissen.  He  lived 
and  died  a  canon  of  the  cathedral ;  the  lyre  the 
solace  of  his  days,  and  he  sung  the  praise  of  woman. 


40  GERMANY. 

Five  hundred  years  have  rolled  -over  the  city,  and 
scarce  fewer  calamities ;  yet  here,  surviving  the 
shrines  of  saints,  and  the  tombs  of  princes  and  war- 
riors, the  name  and  the  fame  of  a  humble  bard  re- 
main cherished  and  sacred.  Strange  and  delightful 
memorial!  honour  to  it;  and  peace  to  thy  manes, 
Frauenlob.  In  the  lays  of  the  Minnesangers  I  find  no 
specimen  of  Henry  of  Meissen,  although  the  engrav- 
ing of  his  tomb  forms  the  appropriate  frontispiece 
to  that  interesting  volume.  All,  therefore,  that  I 
know  of  him  is,  that  he  was  one  among  those  to 
whom  women  should  feel  indebted  to  this  very 
hour ;  for,  no  secondary  cause  has  so  humanized, 
refined,  and  blessed  our  world  below,  as  the  high 
place  in  man's  esteem,  and  tender  reverence,  which 
the  minstrel  of  the  middle  ages  did  first  assign  to 
them,  and  the  knights  of  chivalry  in  brave  accord 
confirm.  As  I  turned  to  leave  the  tomb,  one  sad 
thought  forced  itself  upon  me.  1  have  read  some- 
where, that  it  is  the  thorn,  which  piercing  the  breast 
of  the  nightingale,  causes  the  sweetness  of  that 
melody  we  love. — This  bard  lived  and  died  unwed- 
ded. 

On  the  morrow  I  left  Mayence,  delighted  with  my 
short  sojourn,  and  looking  back  on  it  all  the  way  to 
Biberich  with  admiration  and  regret.  There  is  a 
chateau  at  this  place  belonging  to  the  prince  of  Nas- 
sau ;  it  is  pleasantly  situated  in  a  garden  on  the 
banks  of  the  Rhine.  I  left  my  carriage  at  the  gate, 
and  walked  into  the  grounds.  Before  the  house  I 
saw  two  sentinels,  who  suffered  approach  and  said 
nothing ;  but  I  was  quite  confounded  as  1  came  sud- 
denly on  a  glass  door,  and  saw  persons  seated,  and 
moving  within.  I  hurried  past,  and,  at  a  side-door 
m  the  wing  of  the  building,  asked  if  there  was  any 


GERMANY.  41 

part  of  the  chateau  to  be  seen.  From  two  persons 
I  got  a  "  ya"  u  ya"  but  no  instruction  or  offer  of 
assistance.  Near  the  stables  I  saw  two  grooms  in 
quiet  liveries  of  grey.  One  of  these,  a  smart  hand- 
some man,  returned  with  me,  and  spoke  to  the  maitre 
d'hotel,  who  was  standing  in  a  full  suit  of  black  close 
to  a  maid  servant,  engaged  in  washing  silver  plates 
as  they  were  brought  from  table  This  majordomo 
gave  a  gracious  u  ya"  the  maid  two,  and  a  nod  ;  the 
groom  pointed  out  the  way  up  stairs,  bowed  respect- 
fully, and  went  away.  1  mounted,  and  found  myself 
at  liberty  to  pass  along  galleries,  with  bed-chamber 
doors  half  open,  and  seemingly,  not  long  deserted  by 
their  occupants,  till,  at  length,  opening  a  door  at  the 
further  end  of  a  long  corridor,  I  entered  a  gallery, 
running  round  a  painted  dome.  Close  to  me  was  a 
gilded  Corinthian  capital,  and  below,  as  if  exhibited 
for  the  gazer's  entertainment,  the  duke  and  three 
others  partaking  of  a  dejeuner  a  la  fourchette,  and 
waited  on  by  several  attendants,  in  full  suits  of  black, 
with  shoulder  knots  of  orange  ribbon.  At  a  glance 
1  saw  all  this,  and  that  the  party  were  eating  off 
silver,  but  I  instantly  retired  ;  not  that  I  believe  I 
should  have  done  anything  contrary  to  usage  by  sit- 
ting the  scene  out;  but  to  a  plain  Englishman  this 
kind  of  thing  is  felt  either  painful,  or  ridiculous ; 
for  a  duke  of  Nassau  is  not  exactly  a  king  of  France, 
and  I  should  as  soon  have  dreamed  of  looking  into 
the  breakfast  parlour  of  a  quiet  English  nobleman, 
or  country  gentleman,  as  into  his. 

From  hence  I  drove  to  Weisbaden,  a  small  place  of 
baths,  with  just  that  sort  of  aspect  that  seems  dis- 
tinctly to  say,  here  you  either  must  be  happy,  or  pre- 
tend to  be.  Smile  and  stay  io  welcome  ;  but  if  you 
begin  to  sigh,  away  with  you.    The  place  is  all  white. 


i%  GERMANY. 

The  hotels  white,  and  vast ;  the  salles  white,  and 
vast.  I  sate  down  to  a  long  dinner  table,  about  as 
full  as  a  ball  supper  table  at  home,  and  about  in  the 
same  comfort, — soups  cold,  and  wines  hot. 

There  was  one  lady  in  the  company,  although  it 
was  only  the  noon  repast,  in  full  dress;  arms  and 
neck  uncovered.  It  had  a  very  strange  appearance, 
all  the  rest  were  so  shawled  and  bonneted.  She 
was  a  handsome  woman  of  vulgar  beauty,  if  1  may 
use  such  an  epithet  without  sacrilege,  and  I  could 
not  but  suspect  that  it  was  a  designed  mistake. 

There  is  a  very  fine  building  at  Weisbaden,  called 
the  Kursal,  appropriated  to  public  amusements ;  it 
is  three  hundred  and  Miy  feet  in  length,  by  one  hun- 
dred and  seventy  in  breadth: — the  great  saloon  is 
truly  magnificent.  We  have  no  idea  at  home  of 
amusement  conducted  on  the  scale  on  which  it  is 
here. 

Restauration,  balls,  billiards,  cards,  music,  all  un- 
der the  same  roof,  and,  in  the  arcades  adjoining,  such 
shops  as  are  always  to  be  met  with  at  watering-pla- 
ces, for  the  sale  of  trinkets,  toys,  bon-bons,  essences, 
music,  and  engravings. 

The  city  of  Frankfort  did  not  interest  me  at  all ; 
there  appeared  no  bustle,  no  activity  in  its  streets  ; 
and  I  believe,  at  no  time,  except  at  the  season  of  the 
fair,  is  there  much,  if  any.  it  rained  heavily  during 
my  short  stay,  at  which  I  was  well  pleased,  for  the 
weather  had  been  intolerably  hot,  and  the  roads 
dusty.  The  traveller  can  scarcely  be  weather-bound 
in  a  place  ministering  more  abundantly  to  his  com- 
fort than  Frankfort.  The  hotels  are  excellent :  he 
wili  find  at  the  casino  English  newspapers  and  re- 
views ;  and  it  is  just  a  spot  for  repose  and  letter- 
writing*. 


GERMANY.  4J 

I  passed  a  morning  in  the  Picture  Gallery.  It  ha3 
not  much  to  boast  of,  but  there  are  many  specimens 
of  the  old  German  school  which  always  produce  the 
same  effect  on  me  as  the  reading  of  an  old  ballad  : 
an  effect  which  few,  who  are  acquainted  with  it,  can 
deny  to  be  very  delightful. 

In  the  garden-house  of  a  merchant  1  saw  the  ad- 
mired statue  of  Ariadne,  by  Dannecker.  To  my 
eye  the  figure  is  altogether  too  large,  too  fleshy.  It 
is  exhibited  with  a  great  parade  for  producing,  arti- 
ficially, a  voluptuous  effect, — happily,  in  vain  ;  for 
the  marble  is  covered  with  spots  and  streaks,  blue 
and  livid  as  those  on  a  body  tainted  by  the  loath- 
some plague. 

Although,  however,  this  subject  was  to  my  taste  a 
very  disappointing  one,  I  love  the  art  too  well  not 
to  offer  my  tribute  of  admiration  to  the  sculptor.  It 
is  pleasing  to  think  of  a  boy  of  thirteen  determining 
his  own  path  in  life  in  the  fearless  and  interesting 
manner  in  which  he  is  said  to  have  done  so,  and 
carried  on  irresistibly  by  the  power  of  his  genius, 
gaining  the  high  honours  of  his  art. 

The  theatres  of  Germany  must  be  visited  by  every 
traveller  who  would  know  the  people.  That  at 
Frankfort  is  a  poor  one,  the  orchestra  good.  I  saw 
my  countrywomen  sadly  caricatured  in  a  drama,  the 
name  of  which  I  cannot  remember.  Spencers  of  a 
pale  blue  silk,  with  waists  of  a  most  immoderate 
length,  and  round  straw  hats  with  very  narrow  brims, 
disfigured  two  red  and  white  women,  whose  beauty 
would  at  no  time  have  been  very  remarkable,  and 
who  were  selected  as  representatives  of  the  two 
lovely  daughters  of  an  English  merchant.  This 
worthy  old  gentleman  is  prevented  from  throwing 
himself  into  the  Thames  by  an  English  nobleman. 


44  GERMANY. 

who  is  walking  London  bridge  at  the  same  moment* 
and  with  the  like  intent.  There  are  scenes  ot' 
punch-drinking,  love-making,  and  marrying : — as  I 
could  understand  little  if  any  thing  of  the  dialogue, 
I  can  only  say  that  I  thought  the  piece  absurd.  I 
was  not  sorry  to  feel  thus  at  my  first  introduction 
into  a  German  theatre,  as  I  had  occasion,  in  other 
places,  to  observe  that  the  attention  to  costume  in 
Germany  is  in  general,  especially  as  it  regards  the 
early  and  middle  ages,  correct,  and  the  acting  most 
natural  and  impressive.  There  was  a  lady  (from 
Prussia  I  believe)  in  one  of  the  boxes  of  surpassing- 
beauty  :  there  really  seemed  a  light  all  about  her. 

The  dismantled  ramparts  of  the  city  are  laid  out 
in  pleasant  gardens,  and  between  the  showers  I  met 
in  them  numbers  of  fine  looking  children,  prettily 
dressed,  in  charge  of  staid  old  German  nurses.  As 
to  costume,  in  general,  the  genUemen  of  Frankfort 
are  not  to  be  distinguished  from  those  seen  daily  on 
our  Royal  Exchange.  The  old  part  of  the  town  is 
dirty  enough,  nevertheless  its  narrow  streets  have  a 
very  peculiar  and  a  very  picturesque  aspect ;  and 
then  they  have  been  walked  in  long,  have  seen 
new  elected  emperors  ride  through  them,  and  have 
listened  to  many  proclamations.  Neither  the  Elec- 
tion Kail  nor  the  famous  Golden  Bull  did  I  see ;  nor 
can  I  shelter  myself  under  the  excuse  of  Bishop 
Burnet,  for,  so  far  from  any  difficulty  attending  the 
visit,  I  believe  that  it  was  because  a  domestique  de 
place  pestered  me  about  it,  that  I  did  not  go. 

Near  the  gate  of  Friedberg  is  a  monument  erect- 
ed to  the  memory  of  the  brave  and  devoted  Hes- 
sians, who  fell  at  the  assault  of  the  city  in  1792. 
There  is  a  huge  and  hollow  helmet  on  this  monu- 
ment which  greatly  pleased  me.  as  did  the  whole 


GERMANY. 

memorial,  although  I  am  aware  that  in  strict  taste 
the  style  and  proportions  may  be  considered  faulty. 

The  road  to  Darmstadt  traverses  a  very  noble 
pine-forest.  The  town,  though  small,  has  a  hand- 
some, court-like  look  ;  the  square  is  really  tine,  as 
is  the  grand  street  leading  from  it.  I  found  a  good 
hotel,  and  got  a  very  cheerful  chamber.  In  this 
place  I  lingered  delightedly  for  three  days.  There 
are  most  pleasant  gardens  to  walk  in  ;  there  is  an 
excellent  opera  for  those  who  love  music, — and 
who  is  there  does  not  ?  there  is  a  gallery  of  paint- 
ings, in  which  are  many  pieces  of  acknowledged 
merit;  and  yet,  with  all  these  appendages  of  a  court 
and  a  city,  Darmstadt  is  as  still,  as  tranquil  as  a 
village. 

I  was  not  a  little  amused  at  two  rehearsals  of  the 
opera  of  Fernan  Cortez,  where  the  Duke  himself, 
the  scroll  of  leader  in  his  hand,  governed  his  orches- 
tra in  person.  1  largely  forgave  him  his  hobby, 
while  I  listened  to  his  fine  full  band,  and,  if  he  would 
only  be  a  little  more  considerate  to  Mayence,  should 
regard  this  harmless  folly  not  very  indefensible:  he 
might  have  tastes  quite  as  costly,  though  they  would 
be  regarded  as  more  princely.  May  it  not  be  a  be- 
guilement,  in  which  he  seeks  to  conceal  from  him- 
self the  nothingness  of  his  poor  sovereignty,  and  to 
console  himself  under  a  sad  bodily  infirmity  ?  I  was 
particularly  struck  by  one  thing ;  although  he  is 
crooked,  has  an  infirm  and  bending  gait,  and  an  im- 
patience of  manner,  which  might  tempt  to  ridicule, 
yet  does  he  bear  himself  withal  so  much  the  gentle- 
man and  the  nobleman,  that  no  liberties  appeared  to 
me  to  be  taken  with  him,  and  the  musicians  were  all 
most  subduedly  obedient  in  their  calling.  I  remain- 
ed at  Darmstadt  for  the   final  representation  :  the 


4*  GERMANY. 

scenery  was  fine,  the  costumes  of  the  Spanish  cha- 
racters excellent,  in  the  true  old  Oastilian  taste. 
Those  of  the  Peruvians  were,  of  necessity,  fanciful 
rather  than  correct.  The  theatre  was  very  brilliant 
and  well  lighted.  With  the  sole  exception  of  the 
prima  donna.,  the  singing  was  not  at  all  remarkable  ; 
but  the  instrumental  music  was  perfect.  The  cho- 
russes,  too,  of  the  Peruvian  women,  produced  quite 
a  thrill  in  my  bosom,  they  are  so  wild,  so  shrill,  so 
piercing,  and  the  breaks  so  sudden  and  effective. 

At  the  risk  of  being  considered  tedious,  I  cannot 
pass  over  the  Picture  Gallery  in  silence.  There  are 
many  chambers,  and  some  hundreds  of  pictures,  the 
greater  part  of  them  fit  only,  according  to  the  phrase, 
to  cover  walls :  yet  I  often  think,  even  about  pictures 
so  spoken  of,  take  one  away,  take  it  to  your  own 
chamber,  and  hang  it  up  there,  how  a  painting,  poor 
in  the  proud  eye  of  the  vain  artist  or  wealthy  col- 
lector, becomes  dear  to  the  man  of  imagination. 
There  is  in  this  collection  a  picture,  the  subject  of 
which  is  the  death  of  Mary.  There  are  thirteen 
figures  in  the  groupe  ;  the  countenances  are  of  a 
calm,  sacred  beauty ;  the  costumes  nun-like,  and  in 
sober  keeping.  The  effect  of  the  whole  is  solemn, 
sweet,  and  sad  ;  the  painter's  name  is  John  Schorel ; 
the  canvass  small,  two  feet  and  a  half  square. 

There  is  an  embalming  of  Christ,  with  the  Marys, 
St.  John,  and  two  angels, — a  picture  of  great  beauty, 
by  Schwartz.  There  is  also  a  holy  family,  with 
Christ  on  the  cross,  Mary  Magdalen,  and  St.  John, 
by — Unknown. 

I  pity  the  man  who  dares  not  admire  a  picture  be- 
cause it  wants  the  magic  mint  press  of  a  name.  My 
perfect  ignorance  of  the  art  leaves  me  in  this  point 
happily  independent.  1  rejoice  to  be  pleased,  and  I 
want  no  sanction  for  mv  admiration 


GEEMANY. 

There  is  a  fine  Domenichino  in  this  collection,  the 
subject,  the  Prophet  Nathan's  Accusation  of  David. 
Nathan  is  a  strongiy  marked  prophetic  form  and  face, 
terrific  in  gesture,  and  mantled  in  deep  red.  The 
king  is  starfng,  and  has  the  wide  stare  of  terror.  I 
admire  the  painting,  but  like  not  this  way  of  telling 
that  awfui  story.  Nothing,  perhaps,  was  more  calm, 
nothing  more  stilly,  than  the  utterance  of  "  Thou 
art  the  man."  These  simply-whispered  words  must 
have  resounded  as  God's  own  thunder  on  the  sinner's 
ear,  and  gone  down  keener  than  a  two-edged  sword 
into  his  heart.  There  is  a  St.  John  in  the  Wilder- 
ness, by  Raphael ;  a  Virgin  teaching  the  Infant  Je- 
sus to  read,  with  Joseph  in  the  back  ground,  by  Lu- 
dovico  Caracci  ;  a  Peter  denying  Christ  to  the  Maid, 
by  Domenichino  ;  an  Old  Man,  by  Spagnoletto ;  a 
Hagar  in  the  Wilderness,  by  Pietro  de  Cortona  ;  and 
many  others,  well  rewarding  the  time  passed  in  gaz- 
ing on  them. 

The  court  apartments  in  the  castle,  which  are 
shown  to  the  visitor,  have  their  interesting  old  fur- 
niture, and  their  gaudy  new.  The  Chamber  of  the 
Throne  is  remarkably  rich  in  its  decorations.  I 
could  not  help  calling  to  mind  the  speech  of  Napo- 
leon in  1814,  vvhen,  on  the  invasion  of  the  allies,  he 
so  angrily  dismissed  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  and 
in  the  course  of  which  he  broke  out  with  his  rude 
but  impressive  camp-eloquence  :  "  What  is  it,  then, 
a  throne  ?  only  four  planks  of  wood  nailed  together, 
and  covered  with  red  velvet !  It  is  not  the  throne  ; 
it  is  the  man  who  sits  on  it — Moi  je  suis  le  trone." 

There  are  many  things  in  this  palace  presented 
to  the  Grand  Duke  by  Napoleon;  among  others,  a 
very  elegant  clock  from  Paris.  The  device  is  clas- 
sical, and  in  the  happiest  taste.     The  figures  of  each 


48  GERMAN  r. 

advancing  hour  issue  forth  from  an  urn  of  alabaster, 
and  the  motto  is, 

61  OMNIUM    VERSATUR    URNA." 

In  one  small  chamber  is  the  portrait  of  a  little  child; 
it  is  that  of  the  present  King  of  Prussia,  and  was 
taken  when  he  was  in  infancy.  The  person  who 
conducted  me  through  the  apartments  told  me,  that 
when  this  sovereign  was  last  at  Darmstadt  he  break- 
fasted alone  in  that  very  cabinet,  opposite  to  his  own 
picture.  An  anecdote  like  this  I  love  ;  it  shows  a 
king  confessing  his  alliance  with  our  common  kind, 
wishing  himself  again,  perhaps,  the  little  uncrowned 
thing  that  played  free  in  a  nursery,  instead  of  the 
sceptred  monarch,  labouring,  and  that  subjectedly, 
in  a  closet.  Childhood  is  the  season  of  true  royal- 
ty ;  they  command  us  all ;  they  bid  us  do  this  and  do 
that,  come  here  and  go  there,  show  the  picture  or 
tell  the  story,  or  sing  the  song,  and  we  do  it  all  with 
delighted  obedience.  It  is  innocence  we  serve ; 
nay,  we  feel  them,  in  so  much,  beings  of  a  higher 
order;  we  forget  not  that  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven,  and  that  the  angel  of  every  one  among 
them  does  continually  behold  the  face  of  the  Most 
High. 

There  is  a  beautiful  garden  in  Darmstadt,  called 
the  Herrengarten,  with  wood,  and  shrubbery,  and 
winding  walks  ;  a  seat  on  a  mound  commanding  the 
extensive  plain  beyond,  and  a  small  lake  with  an 
islet  in  the  midst,  all  fringed  about  with  the  droop- 
ing willow.  There  is  another  garden  on  the  other 
side  of  the  city,  in  an  older  fashion,  with  fine  shaded 
avenues,  terraces,  fountains,  and  a  large  old  conser- 
vatory full  of  orange  trees, — just  the  place  for  a 
summer  f£te,    Jn  a  ramble  to  the  south  of  the  citv, 


GERMANY.  48 

1  found  on  the  plain  a  small  camp  of  horse-artillery, 
with  a  large  butt  for  practice  ;  and  the  pine-wood 
near  was  echoing  to  the  rollings  of  the  drum,  where 
a  set  of  chubby  younkers  were  learning  their  first 
beats  under  a  drum-major. 

In  the  streets  of  the  city  I  saw  the  state-carriages 
of  the  Duke  going  to  meet  some  honoured  guest ; 
they  were  preceded  by  running  footmen.  This  is 
old  and  courtlike;  it  provokes  a  smile,  however. 
The  less  of  substance  in  sovereignty,  the  more  1 
observe  the  shadow  is  always  clung  to.  The  waiter 
at  the  hotel  where  I  lodged  professed  to  be  learning 
English,  and  begged  me  very  hard  to  give  him  some 
EnglisiHjtrcrk.  Of  the  few  pocket  volumes  I  carried 
with  me,  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  part  with  one. 
Tgave  him,  however,  an  old  pocket-book,  which  I 
chanced  never  to  have  written  in,  so  that  I  furnished 
him  with  most  important  knowledge  for  a  waiter; 
and  he  may  now  learn  how  to  measure  out  his 
respect  to  English  travellers  according  to  a  printed 
list  of  our  Lords,  Commons,  Baronets,  and  orders  of 
Knighthood. 

The  first  part  of  the  road  from  Darmstadt  to  Hei- 
delberg lies  in  a  wood  of  pines.  The  sun  lighted 
the  rough  rind  of  their  tall  stems  with  a  golden  hue, 
and  the  shadow  of  their  black  branches  gave  a  fine 
relief  to  the  picture.  I  stopped  at  the  village  of 
Alsbach,  and,  directing  the  carriage  to  meet  me  at 
Auerbach,  ascended  Mount  Meliboecus  with  a  Ger- 
man peasant-boy  for  my  guide. 

The  walk  is  delightful  in  itself,  and  from  association 
magical.  It  is  the  Odenwald  which  you  traverse : 
there  are  not  many  large  trees,  but  there  is  all  that 
tall,  tangled,  and  matted  brushwood  which  belongs  to 
the  forest  hill :  there  is  a  talking  stream  :  the  path 


m  GERMANY, 

is  circuitous,  now  ascends,  now  dips,  then  rises  again, 
and  winds  far  about  to  the  tower-crowned  summit. 
Save  the  wafer,  and  your  own  voices,  you  scarce 
hear  a  sound,  without  it  be  in  parts  the  axe  of  the 
wood  cutter,  who  may  be  chance-seen,  far  in  the 
glen,  at  his  solitary  labour. 

I  practised  the  few  words  of  German  I  was  master 
of  with  my  young  guide  with  greater  success  than 
hitherto :  at  that  age  they  strive  to  understand  you  ; 
the  older  German  never  does ;  you  either  speak  his 
language  or  you  do  not.  He  is  proud  of  his  mother- 
tongue,  and  cares  for  you  in  exact  proportion  as  you 
may  be  master  of  it.  I  speak  of  the  people.  French 
carries  the  traveller,  with  the  greatest  ease,  all  over 
Germany  ;  and  for  the  slight  intercourse  you  have 
with  coachmen,  barmaids,  and  guides,  a  few  words 
of  German  intelligibly  pronounced,  and  intelligently 
applied,  will  answer  all  the  purpose  of  warding  off 
embarrassment.  This  I  state,  because  I  am  sure 
that  many  travellers,  of  a  certain  age,  are  deterred 
from  visiting  that  most  interesting  country  from  an 
ignorance  of  the  language,  and  a  despair  of  acquiring 
it.  No  man,  indeed,  can  read  two  dozen  pages  in  a 
German  grammar  without  seeing  that  it  is  a  language 
most  difficult  of  attainment,  its  construction  very  per- 
plexing in  conversation,  its  pronunciation  rarely  to 
be  acquired  by  a  foreigner,  after  that  season  when 
the  organs  are  yet  flexible  in  youth,  and  of  an  evi- 
dent copiousness  and  richness  which  few  may  hope 
to  command  but  those  who  have  early  lisped  in  it 
This  I  say  not  to  excuse  indolence,  or  discourage 
industry,  but  to  check  presumption.  Before  many 
talkers  of  German,  French  as  well  as  English,  the 
puzzled  persons  they  address,  smoke,  and  remain 
dumb.     Bounding  my  own  efforts  most  narrowly  to 


GERMANY.  $1 

my  daily  wants,  on  a  rapid  excursion,  I  each  morning 
renewed  my  resolve  to  study  and  master  the  reward- 
ing language  at  some  favourable  period  as  to  leisure 
and  abode. 

From  the  tower  of  Meliboecus  you  look  out  far 
over  the  vale  of  the  Rhine,  the  red  cities  on  its 
banks,  and  the  blue  mountains  of  the  Vosges  beyond ; 
immediately  below  and  around  you  lie  the  wooded 
and  wavy  hills  of  the  Odenwald,  with  here  and  there 
a  ruined  castle  on  their  summits.  The  whole  pre- 
sents to  the  eye  a  very  glorious  natural  panorama. 
I  descended  by  a  rude  path  to  Auersberg  :  here  I 
found  among  the  ruins  a  German  gentleman  and  his 
two  sons,  boys  of  six  or  seven  years  of  age.  After 
examining  the  remains  of  the  castle  he  joined  me  on 
my  walk  down  to  the  village,  where  my  carriage 
was  waiting.  He  was  very  agreeable,  and  amused 
me  much  by  a  long  and  thorough  German  disserta- 
tion upon  the  difference  of  character  in  his  two  boys, 
and  its  developement  in  the  most  minute  circum- 
stances. This  he  was  exemplifying  to  me,  as  they 
played  before  us^  by  the  different  way  in  which  they 
ran  up  and  down  the  banks  near  us,  and  the  different 
objects  that  made  them  stop,  or  attracted  their  young 
regards.  He  disappointed  me  by  speaking  very 
lightly  of  Madame  de  Stael's  Germany,  a  book  I 
thought  most  highly  of  before  I  saw  that  country, 
and  think  more  highly  of  since  personal  observation 
has  confirmed  to  me  the  value  of  it.  I  believe, 
however,  that  the  plain  English  of  the  old  gentle- 
man's objection  was  that  true  love  of  father-land, 
which  resented  the  idea  of  any  but  a  German  born, 
bred,  and  resident,  treating  any  subject  connected 
with  the  history,  the  institutions,  or  literature  of  his 
country  worthily  enough. 


o2  GERMANY. 

The  road  from  hence  to  Heidelberg",  along  what 
is  called  the  Bergstrasse,  is  a  wonder  and  a  delight: 
the  eye  rests  on  nothing  but  beauty,  fertility,  and 
abundance ;  the  outstretched  hand  can  touch  no 
branch  that  is  not  fruitful ;  it  has  all  the  appearance 
of  a  vast  garden ;  the  very  towns  and  villages  lose 
their  man-made  character;  they,  too,  look  as  if  they 
were  but  just  enough  to  preserve  it  from  running  to 
waste,  and  as  if  the  happy  inhabitants  had  been 
placed  in  them  with  the  same  blessed  command  as 
our  first  parents  in  their  Eden,  "  to  dress  and  to 
keep  it."  But  I  check  a  rhapsody  so  naturally 
inspired  by  the  scene,  and  must  confess  to  my  reader, 
that  this  paradise  is  traversed  by  a  military  road, 
and  that  we  need  not  look  farther  back  than  the  his- 
tory of  our  own  times  to  know,  that  from  these  same 
trees  the  blushing  fruit  has  been  rudely  snatched  by 
hands  yet.  red  from  the  battle.  This  road  termi-, 
nates  in  the  valley  of  the  Neckar;  the  hills,  between 
which  the  river  flows,  are  picturesque  in  their  cha- 
racter. On  the  left  bank  lies  the  city  of  Heidelberg ; 
upon  a  wooded  cliff  above  it  stands  the  castle.  This 
ruin  greatly  disappointed  me ;  it  is  a  huge  pile  of 
building,  dilapidated,  roofless,  windowless.  Row 
above  row  of  square  gaping  vacuities  stare  out  upon 
you  from  wails,  which  want  alike  the  form  and  the 
colour  that  give  dignity  to  a  castle,  or  interest  to  a 
ruin.  It  is  like  the  shell  of  a  barrack,  a  hospital,  or 
a  manufactory  ;  such,  at  least,  it  appears  in  the  glare 
of  noonday  In  the  grey  hour  of  dawn,  however, 
or  the  deep  gloom  which  follows  upon  sunset,  the 
effect  is  certainly  imposing,  and  may  be  called  ma- 
jestic. I  visjted  it  at  both  those  hours,  and  I  sate 
out  on  its  terrace,  looking  down  the  river  on  the 
glorious  plain,  bounded  by  the  Rhine,  with  an  en- 
tranced rapture. 


GERMANY.  53 

There  are  some  pinnacle  points  on  the  loftiest 
part  of  the  ruin,  surmounted  by  statues,  the  attitudes 
of  which  are  grotesque.  In  the  evening  hour  they 
look  like  living  beings,  and  produce  a  very  fantastic 
illusion.  I  did  not  forget  to  visit  the  famed  tun; 
it  is  like  an  old  Dutch  ship  on  the  stocks,  a  large 
ribbed  vessel,  that  might  contain  a  sea  of  wine,  and 
float  it  safely  over  an  ocean  of  water. 

I  met  several  students  in  the  gardens,  both  in 
groupes  and  singly.  Heidelberg  is  a  university  con- 
taining many  hundreds.  Of  German  students  1  can 
only  speak  pictorially,  as  I  have  seen  them  in  my 
brief  passage  through  the  country,  and  as  I  have 
been  impressed  by  them.  Their  costume,  when 
clean,  I  am  far  from  disliking,  and  their  sins  of 
smoking  and  singing  appear  to  me  venial  offences  ; 
even  the  drinking  of  beer  where  they  cannot  get 
wine  I  forgive.  I  believe  Porson,  our  renowned 
Grecian,  would  have  smoked  and  drunk  beer  with 
any  two  of  them  ;  and,  perhaps,  his  shirt-collar 
might  not  have  shamed  the  whiteness  of  theirs. 
Tom  Warton  (that  well-beloved  name)  liked  his  ale 
and  his  rubber  of  bowls,  and  so  did  the  men  of  his 
time.  Ale-houses  had  a  long  day  both  at  Oxford  and 
Cambridge,  but  Germany  is  far  behind  us  ;  with  her 
they  are  the  rage  still,  that  is,  where  the  country 
affords  not  wine.  Of  the  students  in  German  uni- 
versities the  great  majority  are  poor.  The  period 
of  their  residence  is  a  very  trying  one,  and  nothing* 
but  the  care  generally  bestowed  on  their  boyhood  at 
home  would  safely  carry  a  youth  through  it,  and 
restore  him,<as  *  a  late  traveller  tells  us  it  does,  "  to 

*  A  Tour  in  Germany,  by  Jojm  Russell,  Escmire,  vol.  i.  page 
193. 


SgL  GERMANS. 

fall  into  his  own  place  in  the  bustling  competition  oi' 
society,  and  lead  a  peaceful,  industrious  life,  as  his 
father  did  before  him." 

In  their  universities  there  is  none  of  that  whole- 
some discipline  so  honourably  distinguishing  those 
of  our  native  country.  It  was  the  immediate  and 
shrewd  observation  of  the  Duchess  of  Oldenburgh, 
on  visiting  Oxford  : — u  Here  is  one  great  secret  of 
your  superiority  in  discipline,  your  scholars  live 
enclosed  in  colleges,  and  separate  from  the  citizens." 
But  yet,  with  all  these  advantages,  let  a  German 
traveller  arrive  at  an  inn  in  Oxford,  where  some  of 
the  wilder  }'oung  gownsmen  are  holding  such  a  din- 
ner and  supper  as  we  know  they  sometimes  do,  and 
let  him  go  next  morning  to  the  theatre,  and  hear  an 
unpopular  vice-chancellor  and  his  proctors  hooted, 
nay,  literally,  by  some,  howled  at  with  a  tone  only 
suited  to  a  cock-fight ;  would  it  not  be  pardonable  if 
he  were,  for  a  moment,  a  little  staggered  about  the 
excellence  of  our  discipline,  and  the  gentleness  of 
our  manners  ?  Yet  a  little  enquiry  would  soon  con- 
vince him  of  the  true  worth  and  sterling  qualities  of 
our  students,  and  enable  him  to  smile  away  and  for- 
get such  trifles,  as  circumstances  by  which  he  might 
have  been  led  to  form  a  very  unfaithful  estimate  of 
the  true  character  of  that  great  and  admired  seat  of 
learning. 

1  mean  not  to  institute  an  unfair  and  impossible 
comparison  between  the  comparatively  wealthy 
gownsmen  at  our  universities  and  the  poor  burschen 
of  Germany,  but  1  wsnt  more  allowance  for  the  latter 
than  is  generally  made. 

No  man  can  pass  an  hour  in  a  room  with  German 
students  without  discovering  that  they  are  worship- 
pers of  knowledge,  and  lovers  of  their  father-land 


GERMAN*.  &> 

This  love  of  father-land  does  indeed  give  them 
heated  and  vague  notions,  the  warmth  of  which 
does  never,  I  hope,  entirely  die  away,  while  the 
vagueness  settles  down  into  something  defined  and 
valuable  in  permanent  guiding  principles  of  life. 

As  to  the  foppery  of  their  eccentric  costume,  be  it 
remembered,  that,  a  few  short  years  ago,  every  trifle 
which  distinguished  the  German  from  his  French 
enemy,  or  from  those  of  his  own  countrymen,  cor- 
rupted by  intercourse  with  their  conquerors,  was  of 
great  importance.  It  is  with  such  an  eye  that  1  have 
looked  upon  their  shapeless  coat,  their  long  hair, 
their  bare  neck,  and  the  open  shirt-collar  falling 
back  upon  their  shoulders.  1  have  certainly  seen 
among  them  the  would-be  rakish,  or  rather  the 
rakish  and  the  rude  ;  but  many  a  cheek  have  I 
observed  paie  with  study,  and  many  an  eye  bright 
with  the  intelligence  of  that  happy  age,  when  it  is 
a  pastime  to  attempt  the  hill  of  Fame.  When 
gathered  together  at  their  universities  they  are  all 
3'oung,  and  they  dream  that  Germany  might  be  a 
free  land.  When  they  become  men  they  awake,  and 
see  distinctly  the  cheerless  reality.  Then,  content- 
ing themselves  with  personal  independence  as  men, 
political  liberty,  as  members  of  a  nation,  they  forget 
or  forego.  Germany  must  go  through  a  dreadful 
ordeal  before  she  can  ever  be  (what  they  desire  to 
see  her)  a  country  ;  she  must  be  made  one  by  some 
ambitious  and  wide-conquering  usurper,  and  he,  or 
his  successor,  chained  up  by  charters,  or  made  noth- 
ing by  a  firm  and  resolved  people. 

I  attended  divine  service  at  the  Lutheran  church, 
and  heard  a  sermon,  of  which  I  understood  nothing. 
The  preacher  was  serious  and  earnest  in  his  manner, 

A 


56  GERMANY. 

and  the  congregation,  especially  the  young  students, 
of  whom  numbers  were  present,  devoutly  attentive. 

On  my  way  to  Manheim  I  visited  the  gardens  of 
Schwetzingen.  I  hey  are  very  spacious,  and,  from 
the  small  number  of  persons  met  in  them,  you  can 
command  solitude.  They  cover  nearly  two  hundred 
acres :  they  have  avenues,  bowers,  fountains ;  in 
these  last  an  Arion,  infant  tritons,  dolphins,  and 
aquatic  birds,  spout  up  the  waters.  There  are  many 
statues, — a  few  good  and  appropriately  placed: — 
Apollo  shining  in  an  open  temple  ;  Pan  seated  on 
his  rock  There  are  several  temples,  a  mosque, 
and  some  Roman  ruins  imitated  with  great  skill. 
But  nothing  is  more  displeasing,  or  disappointing  to 
the  taste,  than  a  mock  ruin  ;  caught  by  the  aspect 
of  a  brown  and  broken  tower,  to  walk  towards  it 
with  a  quicker  step,  and  to  find  that  it  is  all  a  scenic 
trick,  that  you  have  been  cheated  of  an  emotion, 
makes  you  angry  with  the  artist  and  with  yourself. 

You  drive  forth  from  Schwetzingen  by  a  most 
superb  avenue  of  poplars.  They  are  not  here  thin 
in  their  foliage  and  waving,  but  they  are  full  of 
leaves  : — the  sky  cannot  be  seen  through  them ; 
and  they  rise  to  a  most  stately  height,  resembling,  to 
the  fancy,  a  long  line  of  green  obelisks  ;  only  the 
shadows  these  cast  have  freshness  rather  than  solem- 
nity, and  the  wind,  as  it  rustles  amid  their  branches, 
tells  you  that  they  are  living  things  rejoicing  in  exist- 
ence. Poplars  are  found  all  about  German  cities, 
especially  on  the  Rhine ;  they  form  quite  a  feature 
in  all  their  town  views,  and  to  my  taste  a  very  grace- 
ful one.  You  approach  Manheim  through  a  line  of 
numberless  small  garden-houses,  but  they  are  close 
to  each  other,  situate  in  small  plots  of  ground,  and 
dusty.     Manheim,  you  are  told  by  guide-books,  tra- 


GERMANY.  57 

vellers,  residents,  and  domestiques  de  place,  is  one  of 
the  most  regularly  beautiful  towns  on  the  Continent. 
I  admit  the  regularity,  but  deny  the  beauty.  There 
is  a  sameness,  tame  and  tiresome  to  the  eye, — it  is 
Insipid,  and  uninteresting.  I  walked  out  to  breathe 
freer  in  the  suburbs,  and  crossed  the  bridge  over  the 
Rhine.  From  thence  the  view  of  the  city  is  very 
fine.  The  square  towers,  if  1  may  so  term  them, 
in  the  wings  of  the  castle,  rise  above  the  thick 
foliage  of  the  trees  in  the  garden,  red,  massive, 
and  ducal.  I  returned  and  walked  on  the  garden- 
bank, — the  traveller  will  linger  long  and  late  on  it. 
There  is  always  a  calm  glory  in  this  broad  and 
beauteous  river,  as  it  glides  stilly  at  the  evening 
hour,  which  rills  the  inmost  soul  with  peace.  The 
living  water  speaks  in  silence  to  your  spirit;  you 
feel  all  its  immortality,  and  it  tastes  repose. 

The  church  of  the  Jesuits  at  Manheim  is  a  very 
handsome  building.  I  found  something  in  it  quite 
out  of  character  with  the  general  appearance  of  the 
city,  where  the  streets  are  all  straight,  clean,  and 
new-looking,  the  houses  good  and  tall,  and  the  citi- 
zens well  clad.  It  was  a  pilgrim,  a  true  pilgrim, 
one  who  might  have  served  a  painter  for  a  model 
quite  as  well  four  hundred  years  ago  as  now.  He 
had  not  at  ail  the  look  of  your  holy  beggar,  your 
alms-seeking  penitent.  His  dress  was  a  coarse  robe 
of  capuchin  brown,  without  collar  or  hood,  bound 
round  him  by  a  thong  of  leather  ;  he  had  a  staff 
and  beads,  and  his  shoes  had  the  gathered  dust  of 
long  travel.  His  countenance  was  not  ot  the  common 
order ;  his  cheeks  were  worn,  and  wan ;  he  was  not 
old,  but  his  beard  was  grey ;  he  had  a  small  missal 
stained  by  his  feverish  hand  ;  and  the  view  of  him, 
as  he  kneeled  in  the  deep  and  sincere  agony  of  hit 


utf  GERMANY. 

prayer,  filled  me  with  pity.  These  true  penitential 
figures  always  do  good,  and,  in  the  old  time,  must 
have  produced  a  very  strong,  and  oftentimes  a  salu- 
tary effect  wherever  they  passed.  Their  very  look 
is  enough  :  how  forcibly  it  speaks  of  sin  and  sorrow  ; 
of  the  grave  and  judgment  to  come  !  The  assassin 
might  at  such  a  sight  cast  away  his  dagger  ;  the 
reveller  forsake  his  wine-cup,  and  the  blood  of  the 
cruel  libertine  run  back  coldly  to  a  sickening  heart. 
On  the  drive  to  Karlsruhe  the  road  passes  through 
several  villages ;  the  houses  (for  there  are  no  cot- 
tages) are  very  tall,  crossed  in  many  directions  by 
black  beams  of  wood,  and  have  shingle  roofs.  Their 
loftiness  gives  an  idea  of  space  and  comfort  corres- 
ponding well  with  the  appearance  of  the  peasants, 
who  are  all  fine,  stout,  erect  men.  The  carriage  of 
the  people,  indeed,  both  here  and  throughout  Ger- 
many, is  quite  martial ;  they  all  seem  as  though  they 
were  trained  to  the  field.  You  approach  Karlsruhe 
along  the  edge  of  the  Hartz  forest,  and  it  is  a  plea- 
sant resting-place  ;  the  streets  have  a  clean,  cheerful 
aspect.  It  was  early  in  the  evening  when  I  reached 
the  hotel,  and,  after  dressing,  I  took  a  stroll  on  a 
promenade  outside  of  the  town,  in  the  direction  of 
Beyertheim.  This  is  a  place  of  baths  and  amuse- 
ment, resorted  to  much  in  fine  weather  by  all  the 
inhabitants.  The  path  which  I  followed  wound  be- 
tween a  well-kept  road  and  a  most  beautiful  green 
plain.  It  was  planted  with  trees  and  shrubs,  border- 
ed with  turf,  had  rural  seats,  and  all  around  wore 
the  appearance  of  pleasure-grounds  ;  all  the  persons, 
too,  whom  1  met,  were  walking  enjoyingly,  and  slow. 
Attracted  by  the  sound  of  music,  1  made  my  way  to 
a  kind  of  promenade  haus,  standing  in  a  garden  at 
Beyertheim.     On  the  steps  before  a  large  saloon  I 


GERMANY.  39 

observed  a  groupe  of  officers,  and  a  few  civilians. 
Judging'  it  to  be  a  place  of  public  amusement,  I 
mounted  the  steps,  and  asked  a  gentleman,  in  plain 
clothes,  if  it  was  a  building  open  to  the  public.  He 
bowed  a  "  Yes,"  and  pointed  to  me  to  enter.  I  did 
so,  and  was  not  a  little  startled  and  confused  to  find 
myself  in  a  ball-room,  hung  with  festoons  of  leaves 
and  flowers,  and  the  benches  and  chairs  all  round 
filled  with  the  young  ladies  of  Karlsruhe,  and  their 
chaperones.  I  saw  with  a  glance  that  it  was  not 
exactly  public,  came  out  again,  apologized  to  the 
gentlemen  near  for  my  intrusion,  and  was  going 
away,  but  they  most  promptly  and  frankly  entreated 
me  to  remain  and  witness  the  ball.  They  said  my 
mistake  was  most  natural :  that,  in  fact,  public  balls 
were  often  given  there,  but  that  this  was  a  subscrip- 
tion-assembly, supported  by  the  military  of  the  garri- 
son, a  few  of  the  chief  inhabitants,  and  the  civilians  in 
public  employ,  and  that  the  ladies  were  all  of  their 
families.  A  ball  is  always  a  pleasant  sight,  if  con- 
ducted with  propriety  and  decorum  ;  it  is  one  which 
always  gives  a  reflected  pleasure  to  a  middle-aged 
man,  not  the  less  sweet  because  somewhat  sobered 
by  the  knowledge  of  the  incredible  swiftness  with 
which  the  spring-time  of  life  hurries  by.  It  seems 
but  yesterday,  to  most  men  of  my  age  and  profession, 
that  we  could  journey  twenty  miles  to  an  assembly, 
dance  the  short  night  away,  and  back  to  the  early 
muster  of  the  troops ;  but  twenty  years  have  flown 
by  with  us  all  since  that  yesterday  ;  yet  I  hope  that 
we  are  none  of  us  so  churlish  grown  as  to  dislike 
an  occasional  ball,  if  it  were  only  to  see  "  lamps 
shining  o'er  fair  women  and  brave  men,"  and  hearts 
beating  happily.  But  this  ball  had  the  charm  of 
noveltv, — a  German  assemblv,  a  circle  of  waltzers. 
4* 


oU  GERMAN !Y. 

I  bear  testimony,  from  attentive  observation  on  this 
evening,  to  the  extreme  propriety  and  decorum  with 
which  the  Germans  dance  this  their  national  figure. 
I  take  the  dance  to  be  one  of  very  great  antiquity, 
as  great,  perhaps,  as  the  very  commencement  of 
men  and  women  joining  in  the  dance  together.  The 
sacred  dance  of  the  East  was  entirely  confined  to 
the  service  of  the  temple,  and  mingled  with  their 
idolatrous  rites,  and  is  undoubtedly  of  the  highest 
origin  ;  but  this  I  take  to  be  the  genuine  offspring  of 
the  ancient  German  camps  and  settlements,  where, 
before  their  huts,  youth  and  damsel  clasped  each 
other,  and  moved  in  rude  circlings  to  sound  and  song. 
The  waltz,  however,  transplanted,  becomes  another 
thing,  and  is  no  longer  the  German  dance.  In  Spain, 
for  example,  the  dark  beauties  of  the  south  transfuse 
into  it  all  the  warmth  of  their  climate,  and  all  the 
indolent  voluptuousness  of  their  natures.  In  England, 
again,  I  have  noticed,  from  causes  which  it  would  not 
be  difficult  to  trace,  the  waltz  assumes  a  character 
either  of  great  awkwardness  and  painful  constraint, 
or  of  a  bold,  Unblushing  indecency,  braving  all  cen- 
sure. Here  it  was  not  so  :  in  points  like  these  we 
are  all  the  creatures  of  custom,  and  probably,  to  the 
eye  of  the  unaccustomed  German,  many  parts  of  our 
old  country  dances  may  have  appeared  to  have  im- 
proprieties greater  than  his  own.  To  him  the  waltz 
is  customary  and  innocent ;  to  us,  at  home  in  Old 
England,  it  neither  is  nor  ought  to  be  regarded  as 
innocent,  and  will,  I  trust,  never  gain  established 
favour.  I  have  only  spoken  thus  because  the  Ger- 
mans are  taunted  with  their  passion  for  this  dance, 
as  if  it  stained  and  demoralised  their  whole  country. 
I  observed  that  such  a  thing  as  a  lounger,  or  an 
insipid,  who  will  not  ioin  in  the  dance,  is  not  tole- 


GERMANY.  61 

rated  among  them  ;  for,  in  the  cotillion  part,  a  cou- 
ple break  out  from  the  large  circle,  and  setting  to 
any  bystander,  he  is  led  off  to  a  waltz  movement, 
before  he  has  time  to  ungird  his  sword.  Again,  they 
have  a  custom,  in  parts,  of  taking  each  from  the  as- 
sembled circle  the  lady  or  gentleman  of  their  choice, 
for  one  tour  of  waltzing,  quitting,  for  the  time,  their 
actual  partner ; — a  most  pleasant  privilege.  I  was 
exceedingly  interested  :  the  girls  appeared  to  me  to 
have  great  simplicity  and  frankness  of  manner;  and 
there  seemed  an  absence  of  all  encumbering  vani- 
ties in  their  dress. 

The  music  of  the  waltz  has  turns  and  cadences  of 
a  character  most  soft,  most  sweet ;  and  where  two 
hearts  beat  with  a  strong  youthful  attachment  to- 
wards each  other  may  certainly  minister  delightful- 
ly, and  not  without  danger,  to  the  silent  language  of 
the  eye.  I  thought  of  all  this  as  I  looked  on  the 
cheerfully  innocent  smiles  all  round  me,  and  remem- 
bered that  a  few  years  ago  the  gallant  youth  of  Ger- 
many could  only  snatch  these  pleasures  as  they  were 
hurried  about,  under  one  banner  or  another,  to  scenes 
of  combat  and  death.  I  have  dwelt  too  long  on  this, 
but  the  young  and  their  pleasures  are  dear  to  me  ; 
moreover,  such  a  picture  belongs  essentially  to  the 
aspect  of  German  society. 

"  The  wise  man  sees  his  winter  close 
Like  evening  on  a  summer  day ; 
Each  age,  he  knows,  its  roses  bears, 
Its  mournful  moments,  and  its  gay. 

"Thus  would  I  dwell  with  pleasing  thought. 
Upon  my  spring  of  youthful  pride ; 
Yet,  like  the  festive  dancer,  glad 
To  rest  in  peace  at  even-tide." 


62  GERMANY. 

One  other  stanza  of  this  song  I  must  give  for  the 
sake  of  any  once  admired  beile,  now  in  the  con- 
scious wane,  reminding  her  that  it  is  the  production 
of  a  songstress  and  beauty  of  the  olden  time. 

"The  gazing  crowds  proclaimed  me  fair, 

Ere,  Autumn-touch'd,  my  green  leaves  fell; 
And  now  they  smile,  and  call  me  good ; 
Perhaps  I  like  that  name  as  well." 

Lays  of  the  Minnesingers,  p.  275. 

The  traveller  will  find  Karlsruhe  a  most  pleasant 
spot  to  refresh  in.  Although  the  country  around  is 
flat,  the  view  from  the  tower  of  the  castle  is  beau- 
tiful ;  the  dark  mass  of  the  forest  seen  on  one  side, 
and  the  white  town  on  the  other,  contrast  very  hap- 
pily ;  and  when  you  think  that  the  place  owes  its 
origin  to  the  vow  of  a  tired  hunter  resting  under  a 
shady  tree,  where  now,  in  the  midst  of  a  cheerful 
and  not  inelegant  square,  his  bones  repose,  your 
heart  is  agreeably  moved  by  the  many  strange  asso- 
ciations which  mingle  themselves  with  your  train  of 
thought.  For  the  solitary  blast  of  some  enquiring 
hunting-horn,  you  have  now  full  military  bands  fill- 
ing wide  the  air  with  their  brazen  and  haughty 
tones  ;  for  the  whispered  prayer  of  the  benighted 
wanderer,  the  hymning  of  thousands  securely  assem- 
bled in  their  handsome  churches. 

In  Kastadt  I  passed  only  a  few  hours  for  the  pur- 
pose of  visiting  the  chateau.  Here,  in  dusty  closets 
and  glass-cases,  are  exhibited  numberless  trophies 
taken  from  the  Turks  by  the  warlike  Margrave 
Louis  William.  Here  are  tarnished  cloths  of  gold, 
rusting  arms,  and  housings  heavy  with  embroidery, 
that  the  infidel  came  to  battle  in,  and  a  horse-tail 
standard!    The  traveller,  who  chances  to  recollect 


GERMANY. 

tiie  twent}7-second  stanza  of  the  Siege  of  Corinth, 
may  quote  it  here,  if  he  can  get  the  room  to  himself, 
and  that  wonderful  picture  of  a  Turkish  host  will 
give  shape  and  life  to  these  relics.  I  remembered 
most  of  it ;  but,  oh !  for  that  boy  memory  again,  to 
which  page  after  page  of  any  thing  that  delighted 
was  familiar  enough  to  come  clear  at  the  bidding  at 
any  hour,  in  any  place  ! — it  is  gone  and  will  never 
return.  Fragments,  however,  of  poetry  are  to  the 
solitary  traveller  as  music  and  companionship.  The 
man  who  travels  much,  and  alone,  feels  a  fond  per- 
sonal obligation  to  poets.  The  fancy  is  never  in  so 
happy  a  frame  for  receiving  imagery  as  in  journey- 
ing; the  heart  never  so  ready  to  listen  to  the  me- 
lancholy moral,  which,  in  their  moments  of  high  and 
pure  inspiration,  all  truly  gifted  bards  convey. 

The  apartments  in  this  castle  are  all  laid  out  in 
the  old  taste.  In  one  there  is  a  portrait  of  this  ce- 
lebrated slayer  of  the  Turks,  with  a  court  wig  large 
enough  for  two  judges ;  and  there  are  the  pictures 
of  three  Turkish  ladies  whom  he  captured.  There 
is  a  closet  most  grotesquely  walled  with  china. 
There  is  a  room  filled  with  hunting-trophies,  such 
as  enormous  antlers,  and  pictures  of  dogs  and  keep- 
ers ;  whence,  passing  up,  and  out  on  the  roof,  you 
find  a  colossal  statue  of  Jupiter,  gilt,  sitting  like  the 
god  and  guardian  of  the  whole. 

There  is  one  old  chamber  in  this  palace,  which 
you  enter  through  an  ante-room  hung  with  faded 
tapestry,  and  where  you  find  an  old  state  bed  of 
crimson  damask.  The  view  from  the  windows  of  it 
is  upon  a  lawn  bordered  by  trees,  and  terminating  in 
an  avenue.  It  has  a  peculiarly  calm,  still  look  ;  you 
involuntarily  gaze  out  upon  the  tranquil  scene,  think- 
ing with  what  a  sweet  contentment  one  should  awake 


64  GERMANY. 

and  pass  the  morning  hour  in  it.  I  know  it  sounds 
silly  to  attach  any  importance  on  paper  to  such  a 
trifle  ;  yet  I  do  not  think  that  any  one  on  the  spot 
would  learn  that  Bonaparte  once  slept  in  this  cham- 
ber, on  one  of  his  military  expeditions  against  the 
Austrian,  without  being  startled,  and  made  to  muse 
a  little. 

It  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  travellers  on  the  Con- 
tinent to  see  apartments  that  have  been  occupied  by 
Napoleon.  He  has  been  everywhere  ;  in  all  the 
palaces  in  Europe  (save  ours)  ;  but  the  Spirit  of  tur- 
bulence, the  wielder  of  so  much  of  our  earthly 
thunder,  the  king,  the  conqueror,  when  you  find  that 
he  has  slept  and  waked  in  such  a  scene,  you  ask,  for 
a  moment,  whether  he  did  never,  or  here,  or  in  like 
quiet  places,  feel  the  nothingness  of  his  pursuit,  and 
the  meanness  of  ambition. 

It  was  the  fair  in  Rastadt,  and  the  streets  were 
crowded  with  peasantry.  The  men  wore,  for  the 
most  part,  either  long  blue  coats,  or  short  round 
jackets  of  that  colour,  with  leather  breeches,  cock- 
ed hat,  and  buckles  in  their  shoes.  The  costumes 
of  the  women  were  rather  more  varied: — some  ail 
in  black,  and  unadorned  ;  others  with  little  colour- 
ed or  embroidered  coifs  ;  others  with  fur-caps,  hav- 
ing a  red  crown  and  tassels  of  tinsel.  The  goods 
exposed  for  sale  were  mostly  for  common  use,  and 
of  little  variety,  and  the  fair  seemed  only  frequent- 
ed and  supported  by  the  peasant  population.  There 
were  many  stalls  with  articles  for  dress,  such  as 
shawls  for  the  women,  of  a  deep  red  dye,  laces,  and 
ready-made  caps,  men's  hats,  shoes,  and  clothes,  and 
one  very  large  stall  of  second-hand  coats,  &c. ;  where 
I  was  sorry  to  observe  great  custom,  for  nothing  but 
a  pinching  poverty  induces  even  the  humblest  pea 


GERMANY. 

sant  to  buy  cast-off  clothing.  There  were  all  sorts  of 
farming  and  kitchen  utensils,  and  numerous  stalls  for 
provisions ;  also  a  few  with  coloured  prints,  for  cot- 
tage picture  galleries,  with  strings  of  little  beads  for 
fairings,  and  pipe-heads  for  the  life-lasting  gift ;  and 
watching  here  I  could  see  the  longing  gaze,  the  slow 
purchase,  and  the  kind  wish  of  the  large  heart  in  no 
equivocal  expression  of  countenance.  It  so  happens 
that  in  the  very  middle  of  the  one  wide  street  where 
the  fair  is  held,  stands  the  church  ;  all  the  better 
stalls,  and  larger  throngs  of  people  being  gathered 
immediately  about  it.  Sounds  of  greeting,  and  joy, 
and  conviviality,  of  the  pledged  glass,  and  the  loud 
bargaining,  echo  all  around.  The  great  door  of  the 
church  was  closed.  On  the  steps  of  a  small  side- 
door  sate  an  aged  beggar-woman  to  gather  the  alms 
of  such  rustics  as  might  go  in  to  visit  the  shrines  of 
their  patron  saints.  I  went  in  : — one  man  I  found  in 
prayer  before  the  high  altar ;  he  soon  rose  and  pass- 
ed out,  and  I  remained  for  many  minutes  alone  with 
the  only  human  form  in  that  deserted  tempie.  It 
was  the  pale  corpse  of  a  person,  not  older  than  my- 
self, that  lay  awaiting  the  burial. 

In  driving  out  of  Rastadt  I  met  several  long  wag- 
gons, filled  with  happy  peasants,  going  to  the  fair. 
The  slow-paced  animals  of  labour  were  urged  into 
a  brisker  trot  to  keep  time  with  the  brisker  spirits 
of  their  fellow  servants.  These,  permittedly  forget- 
ting yesterday  and  to-morrow,  were  jofted  along, 
singing  and  laughing,  now  silenced  for  a  moment  by 
a  rut  or  stone,  and  the  next  louder  and  more  joyous 
from  the  confusion  caused  on  the  narrow  benches. 

I  went  to  see  the  small  chateau  called  Favorite.* 
built  about  a  century  ago  by  the  Margravine  Sibyl 
•Augusta-;  it  is  a  pretty  place,  and  rewards  a  visit, 


&  GERMAN  1". 

There  is  a  cool  hall  in  the  middle  of  the  building, 
lighted  from  above,  and  adorned  with  four  fountains. 
The  apartments  are  none  of  them  large,  but  they 
are  fitted  up  in  various  and  not  unpleasing  tastes; 
some  tiled  with  china,  some  painted,  some  tapes- 
tried, some  embroidered  by  the  hand  of  the  Margra- 
vine herself  and  the  ladies  of  her  small  court.  There 
is  one  little  chamber,  the  walls  of  which  are  entire- 
ly covered  with  looking-glass,  japan  gilt  panelling, 
and  a  vast  number  of  miniatures.  Many  of  these 
are  full  length  forms,  representing  the  Margravine 
and  her  husband  in  masquerade  dresses ;  some  rich 
and  gorgeous,  as  Turkish  and  Spanish  ;  others  pret- 
tily or  joyously  imagined,  as  those  of  hay-makers, 
reapers,  shepherds,  vine-dressers.  But  the  kitchen 
is  the  true  cabinet  of  curiosities,  all  things  in  it  are 
in  a  character  so  fanciful  and  freakish.  The  cook's 
idol  or  dumb  assistant  is  represented  by  a  wooden 
figure,  a  bloated,  fat,  squab  of  a  gourmand  ;  his  huge 
paunch  conceals  numerous  small  drawers  for  holding 
spices  and  other  rich  ingredients  of  goul-giving  con- 
diments. Near  it  hangs  a  painted  board,  where,  in 
compartments,  the  various  materials  for  all  high  sea- 
soned and  savoury  dishes  are  duly  displayed  to  assist 
the  bewildered  memory  of  that  busiest  and  most 
important  of  personages,  a  head  cook,  in  the  clo- 
sets and  cupboards  here  you  find  glass  and  china  of 
every  sort  and  quality  then  known,  and  of  various 
whimsical  shapes.  For  instance,  glass  animals  or 
monsters  perform  the  part  of  cruets,  and  among  the 
glasses  for  wine  are  numbers  as  quaint  in  form,  and 
as  capacious,  as  the  Bear  of  Bradwardine. 

There  is  also  a  complete  table  service  of  china- 
ware,  the  cover  of  each  dish  representing  that  which 
is  served  up  within,  as  turkey,  peacock,  wild-fowl. 


GERMANY.  (if 

boar's  head,  artichokes,  asparagus,  cabbages.  Two 
of  these  last,  the  lurge  white-headed  sort,  and  the 
rough  green  savoy,  are  done  so  inimitably,  that  they 
might,  at  a  little  distance,  deceive  the  eye.  It  is 
impossible  not  to  image  to  one's  self  the  kind  and 
playful  merriment  of  the  feast,  where  these  dishes 
made  their  first  appearance. 

From  the  house  I  was  conducted  down  a  long  vine 
walk,  trellised  over  head,  to  a  rustic  hermitage  built 
of  unbarked  wood  and  cork,  and  thatched.  It  has  a 
rude  chapel  and  two  or  three  chambers  adjoining, 
in  one  of  which  is  a  table  with  three  waxen  figures  :* 
among  them  (I  write  the  fact  with  pain)  that  of  our 
Saviour.  In  another  is  a  like  figure  of  .Mary  Mag- 
dalen. They  show  you  a  knotted  scourge,  a  coarse 
mat  for  sleeping  on,  a  penitential  dress  of  chain 
work  with  small  pointed  spikes  to  fret  the  breast,  the 
back,  the  knees,  while  performing  the  offices  of  pe- 
nance. I  regarded  the  whole  thing  as  a  park  toj', 
and  not  a  very  reverent  one  ;  hut  it  is  not  a  toy  : 
here,  during  the  season  of  Lent,  the  Margravine  was 
wont  to  retire  and  pass  it  in  acts  of  penance  that 
partook  of  profanation,  so  ludicrous  that  they  might 
excite  a  smile  if  we  did  not  see  deep  enough  into 
human  nature  and  human  wants  to  be  moved  rather 
with  pity  than  indignation.  Doubtless  the  heart  of 
this  crazed  being  bled  more  severely  beneath  her 
gayest  masquerade  dress  than  her  breast  under  these 
iron  tortures  ;  and,  amid  sounds  of  unsatisfying  mer- 
riment, her  mind  was  more  deeply  goaded  than  when 
on  her  bleeding  knees  she  passed  the  sad  vigil  here. 

*  The  figures  are  seated  at  this  table.  There  is  a  vacant 
place,  which  the  Margravine  was  wont  to  occupy,  and  the  whole 
thing  was  designed  to  represent  the  Last  Supper. 

5 


6$  GERMANY. 

How  painful  to  think  of  is  this  spirit  of  fear,  at  once 
so  humiliating,  so  agonizing,  and  so  vain,  and  differ- 
ing so  widely  from  that  which  we  are  promised  and 
commanded  to  seek,  namely,  "  the  spirit  of  power, 
of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind  !" 

You  pass  into  the  well-known  watering-place  of 
Baden-Baden,  by  a  road  which  turns  off  from  the 
more  public  one  leading  to  Strasburg,  and  runs,  for 
a  couple  of  miles  or  more,  into  a  deep  and  hidden 
vale.  The  aspect  of  the  place  (the  town  itself  I 
mean)  is  not  remarkable,  and  the  stream,  on  which 
it  is  built,  is  narrow  and  inconsiderable  ;  but  then  it 
is  a  stream  that  flows  from  hills,  and  hills  of  no  com- 
mon beauty,  which  rear  their  woody  summits  on 
every  side,  and  fill  the  traveller's  heart  with  glad- 
ness. No  situation  can  be  more  charming :  this  re- 
tired place  of  baths  lies  deep-nestling  in  as  sweet  a 
bosom  as  nature  ever  formed. 

It  was  with  some  difficulty  I  got  accommodated, 
and  that  in  a  bad  hotel,  the  best  being  full ;  but  the 
view  from  my  window  at  once  soothed  and  content- 
ed me. 

After  refreshing  I  walked  up  to  the  castle.  You 
are  shown  what  all  castles  contain, — dungeons  ;  but 
here  I  met  with  a  new  feature  in  them  :  there  is  a 
dungeon-door  of  stone,  of  great  weight  and  thick- 
ness ;  it  moved  upon  its  grooves  so  heavily,  and  with 
a  sound  so  sullen,  so  very  mournful,  that  I  stood  by 
it  awhile  alone,  turning  it  to  and  fro,  that  I  might 
fix  in  my  mind's  ear  for  ever  the  melancholy  tone. 
There  is  a  vaulted  chamber  near  these  dungeons, 
where  the  secret  tribunal,  once  so  dreaded  through- 
out all  Germany,  is  said  to  have  held  its  awful  sit- 
tings. The  upper  rooms  are  sufficiently  cheerful, 
and  the  large  hall  is  surrounded  by  portraits  of  irar- 


GERMANY.  oj 

riors  in  armour  ;  among  them  is  one  in  hermit  robe, 
and  bearded. 

It  was  growing  late,  but  I  walked  on  into  the 
country,  in  the  direction  of  the  old  castle.  The 
views,  on  all  sides,  were  beautiful;  the  path  soon 
wound  up  into  a  thick  wood ;  it  was  gloomy  and 
still.  As  I  came  near  the  castle,  but  while  it  was 
yet  concealed  from  me,  the  sun  set,  and  the  deep, 
deep  red  light  that  followed  it  glared  through  the 
black  trees  with  a  solemnity  I  have  never  seen  ex- 
ceeded. I  now  came  close  upon  and  passed  in  at  the 
old  double  gate,  and,  looking  into  a  little  ruined 
chapel  on  the  left,  found  an  old  woman  kindling  a 
fire,  and  a  little  girl  with  her,  about  six  years  of 
age.  The  wardership  of  this  ruined  castle,  the 
stewardship  over  a  few  bottles  of  kirchwasser  and 
schnapps,  and  the  privilege  of  conducting  travellers 
about  these  crumbling  walls,  are  vested  in  this  poor 
family.  The  little  Johanna  (Yohanna)  tripped  light- 
ly before  me  to  point  out  the  steps  by  which  you 
ascend  the  tower.  We  had  not  gone  many  yards 
when  a  young  Paris  cit,  who  had  just  descended, 
came  breathlessly  towards  me,  with  a  "  Monsieur,  est 
ce  que  vous  parlez  Francois  ?" — u  Qwe  je  suis  charme 
de  vous  avoir  rencontre" — "  Le  bete  qxCon  m'a  donne 
pour  me  conduire  ici  ne  comprend  pas  un  mot" — The 
undisturbed  guide  came  slowly  after,  and  the  young 
Parisian  ran  on  with  "  Vous  allez  monter,  Monsieur" 
— "  Ah  !  la  vue  est  rnagnifique,  superbe." — "  Mais  vous 
Hes  deja  trop  tard." — u  Est  ce  que  je  vous  accompag- 
nerai  ?" — u  Je  remonterai"  — u  Non,  eh  bien,  je  vous 
attendrai  ici  bas. — Vous  reviendrez  bientot. — //  fera 
bientot  nuit^  et  je  ne  crois  pas  que  le  chemin  soit  sure" 
— After  extricating  myself  with  not  a  little  difficulty 
from  this  volunteer  companion,  I  passed  on.  he  call- 


70  GERMANY. 

mg  after  me,  ;i  Monsieur,  vous  ne  resterez  pas  long 
temps  ;  il  est  dejd,  bien  tard  ;  je  vous  attendrai" — You 
may,  methought,— long. 

It  was  the  earliest  portion  of  the  twilight  hour; 
a  light,  as  of  polished  steel,  still  lingered  on  the 
winding  bosom  of  the  fair  Rhine  :  a  lofty  mountain, 
with  a  dark  crown  of  firs,  rose  immediately  near  me, 
and  turning,  there  lay  before  me  the  Black  Forest. 

u  Schwartzwald,"  was  uttered  by  the  soft  and  in- 
Docent  voice  of  my  little  guide.  The  words  sound- 
ed magically  in  my  ear;  the  scene  at  that  moment 
was  gloom  of  the  deepest.  The  forms  of  the  forest 
bills  are  wavy  and  shadowy ;  the  night  was  falling 
on  them.  I  sent  down  the  little  child  to  her  mother, 
and  remained  till  all  was  curtained  by  blackness.  I 
slowly  descended,  and  passed  out  of  the  arched  gate- 
way, without  hearing  any  sound  but  the  slowly-ut- 
tered "  icutte  nacht"  of  the  gentle  little  Johanna.  It 
has  a  kind,  a  meaning,  a  protecting  sound,  that 
c;  gutte  nacht ;"  and  the  "felicissima  notte"  of  Italy 
Is  a  heartless  piece  of  business  compared  to  it. 

The  effect  of  a  lonely  night-walk  through  a  wood 
is  always  awful ;  but  when  that  wood  is  a  part  of 
the  Black  Forest,  the  one  shattered  pine  that  leans 
across  your  path,  and  the  stumps  of  the  many  that 
have  been  cut,  and  that  gleam  white  and  reproach- 
fully, looking  like  monuments,  give  a  character  to 
the  scene  which  impresses  the  mind  with  something 
that,  but  for  religion,  would  be  terror,  and,  in  spite 
of  it,  partakes  of  superstition. 

There  is  a  most  pleasant  walk  on  the  other  side 
of  Baden,  of  a  very  different  character ;  this  leads 
to  the  convent  of  Lichtenthal.  A  stream,  meadows, 
cottages,  a  shady  avenue,  and  seats  for  rest,  are  the 
objects  among  which  you  pass :  and  you  see  wood- 


GERMANY.  71 

cutters  and  sawyers  busily  engaged  at  their  clean 
labours  The  court  of  the  old  convent  of  Lichten- 
thal  is  farm-like ;  in  the  quadrangle  are  stables,  im- 
plements of  husbandry,  and  straw-litter.  1  saw  two 
of  the  sisterhood  cross  it  in  their  black  garbs,  with 
clean  white  hoods,  and  fair  German  faces,  looking 
like  two  figures  just  stepped  forth  from  a  canvass  of 
Albert  Durer's;  and  I  heard  the  innocent,  cheerful 
sound  of  children's  voices  at  their  school-lesson  is- 
sue from  the  building  that  they  entered.  In  the 
centre  of  the  court  was  a  fountain,  that,  with  a  calm, 
kind  tone,  responded  to,  or  rather  mingled  with, 
that  peculiar  and  pleasing  murmur  of  young  voices. 
There  are  two  chapels ;  in  the  large  one  I  only  re- 
marked, with  any  attention,  the  tombs  of  an  abbess 
and  of  a  priest.  They  lay  in  their  strait  shapeless 
length  in  hard  stone  ;  but  the  scuiptor  had  contrived 
to.give  to  the  countenances  of  both  a  something  of 
softness  and  expression  that  might  almost  be  called 
beauty.  1  notice  it  because  it  is  seldom,  in  these 
recumbent  figures,  we  find  such  a  charm  ;  not  but 
what  they  have  charms  of  a  nature  peculiar  to  them- 
selves. In  the  small  chapel,  near  these,  is  a  monu- 
ment to  the  memory  of  an  ancient  Margrave,  who 
lies  (in  armour)  a  huge  and  shapeless  statue  or  image 
of  stone  on  the  top  of  it,  a  hound,  as  shapeless,  by 
his  side,  and  his  feet  resting  on  a  round-headed, 
round-eared  monster,  which  the  habit  of  reading 
such  things  with  a  traveller's  gaze  alone  enables 
you  to  translate  into  a  lion.  On  a  tomb,  near  these, 
is  another  figure  of  a  warrior,  lying  belted,  and  in 
chain  armour ;  he  holds  a  broken  sword.  He,  too, 
rests  his  feet  on  these  otter-headed  lions,  and  four 
of  them  support  his  tomb.  The  looking  on  these 
sights,  as  I  have  before  said,  of  the  old  German 
5* 


72  GERMANY: 

paintings,  is  like  reading"  old  ballads ;  snatches  ol' 
such  old  compositions  come  to  you  like  remembered 
airs,  and  furnish  appropriate  music. 

In  my  second  walk  to  the  old  castle  I  started  ear- 
ly, took  full  time,  went  to  the  rock  above  the  tower, 
and  sated  myself  with  the  far  and  glorious  view. 
Here  is  a  wooden  building,  erected  for  the  accom- 
modation of  those  happy  little  feasts  (pick-nicks), 
which  are  always  among  those  pleasures  that  youth, 
and  parents  who  love  their  children,  most  delight  in. 
The  walls  of  this  shed  are  covered  with  names  cut 
with  knives,  or  rudely  scrawled  in  charcoal.  Here 
the  Legion  of  Honour  is  found  in  friendly  juxtaposi- 
tion with  the  order  of  the  Black  Eagle  ;  the  Austri- 
an prince  with  the  shop-boy  of  Strasburg ;  and  here 
I  saw  the  names  of  two  of  my  fair  countrywomen 
from  a  fine  old  English  mansion.  These  walks,  this 
scenery,  the  quietude,  the  eomfort,  are  very  attrac- 
tive to  the  taste,  and  I  think  it  one  of  the  most  de- 
lightful places  of  summer  resort  with  which  I  am 
acquainted.  I  could  walk  about  for  ever,  and  not 
tire  of  the  scene.  It  is  by  no  means  a  dear  place, 
and,  if  a  man  were  to  make  for  it  direct,  not  at  a 
difficult  distance,  and  most  conveniently  reached 
across  France.  Here  he  might  learn  German,  read 
old  ballads,  listen  to  music,  walk  in  woods,  and,  if  his 
health  required  it,  take  the  baths.  A  watering- 
place  has  always,  however,  tastes  to  supply  of  an  in- 
ferior order;  and,  accordingly,  there  is  a  prome- 
nade house,  where  the  fool  may  lose  his  money ,  and 
some  knave  will  be  found  to  win  it ;  and  inscriptions 
may  be  noticed  on  the  seats  in  the  gardens  exhibit- 
ing as  little  decency  as  sense.  The  principal  spring, 
called  the  Ursprung,  and  that  sty  ied  the  Holienquelle, 
where  they  literally  come  and  scald  their  fowls,  are 


GERMANY.  ; 

those  visited  by  strangers  as  objects  of  curiosit}'. 
The  antiquarian  taste  may  find  an  hour's  amusement 
in  a  small  museum  of  Roman  monuments,  all  of  which 
were  collected  in  or  near  Baden ;  and  there  is  a 
lounging  library  for  the  hot  hours  of  early  noon.  It 
is  a  place  which,  I  should  think,  few  travellers  would 
quit  without  regret. 

On  the  road  from  Baden  to  Strasburg  I  was  in  a 
carriage  with  a  chance-collected  party.  We  met  a 
young  man  with  a  knapsack  on  his  back,  very  well- 
looking,  and  decently  clad,  who  ran  by  our  side,  and 
stretched  forth  his  hat  for  alms.  No  Englishman  is 
slow  to  give  the  casual  sixpence,  but  he  rejects  at 
once  a  petitioner  of  such  appearance,  and  with  a 
feeling  of  anger  or  contempt.  A  German  in  the  car- 
riage, to  judge  from  externals  penurious  in  his  ha- 
bits, questioned  and  relieved  him.  My  curiosity  was 
excited,  and  the  gratification  of  it  tended  to  correct, 
a  feeling  of  prejudice  which  had  arisen  out  of  igno- 
rance, and  which  I  rejoiced  to  have  removed. 

He  told  me  that  it  was  the  custom,  throughout 
Germany,  for  young  men  learning  a  trade  to  travel 
for  two  or  three  years,  taking  journey-work  in  dif- 
ferent towns  or  cities  in  their  route,  before  they  set- 
tled in  their  calling  at  home  ;  that  it  often  happened 
they  were  disappointed  of  obtaining  labour,  and  not 
unfrequently  had  to  journey  long  distances,  depend- 
ent on  the  liberality  of  those  whom  they  met,  or  of 
the  town  where  they  passed  the  night.  This  it  was 
delightful  to  know,  as  it  henceforth  became  a  plea- 
sure and  a  duty  to  assist  them.  I  like  not  the  sys- 
tem ;  for  I  think  that  it  must  very  much  unsettle  the 
habits  of  young  mechanics;  that  it  exposes  them,  at 
a  very  dangerous  age,  to  great  temptation,  and  that 
it  frequently  subjects  them  to  a  state  of  need  not  fa- 


74  GERMANY. 

vourable  either  to  a  becoming  spirit  of  independence, 
or  to  steady  industry.  It  must  be  confessed,  how- 
ever, that  there  is  nothing  of  the  mean  suppliant  in 
their  application ;  the  hat  is  taken  off,  and  the  ques- 
tion is  asked  in  a  plain,  frank  manner,  and  seldom  in 
vain,  for  the  Germans  are  a  most  friendly,  generous, 
and  a  very  considerate  people. 

Strasburg  is  a  large  uninteresting  city,  a  frontier 
garrison,  a  place  of  rest,  relay,  and  conference  for 
generals  and  ambassadors.  The  inns  are  still  full  of 
the  recollections  of  the  war,  and  of  the  great  men 
who  have  occupied  their  chambers.  Here,  there- 
fore, an  unattended  traveller  is  thrust  into  a  little 
cabinet,  and  any  remonstrance  is  met  by  a  smile,  or  a 
shrug,  or  a  consolation,  or,  what  is  worse  than  all, 
by  an  impudent  assurance  that  it  is  the  best  unoccu- 
pied apartment  in  a  large,  straggling,  empty  hotel. 
Such  was  my  fate.  1  consoled  myself  by  a  good  sup- 
per and  a  bottle  of  excellent  wine.  An  English  gen- 
tleman came  into  the  saloon  and  took  coffee  opposite 
to  me.  We  naturally  fell  into  conversation  ;  and  as 
the  talk  of  travellers  generally  runs  on  travelling,  on 
what  they  have  seen,  and  what  they  desire  to  see, 
we  found  out  that  we  were  bound,  for  a  few  days,  in 
the  same  direction.  Though  averse  from  a  travel- 
ling companion,  especially  a  stranger,  I  agreed  to 
journey  with  this  gentleman  to  Schaffhausen  through 
the  Hollenthal.  My  companion  proved  a  most  agree- 
able, full-minded  man,  with  a  well-thumbed  Euripi- 
des in  his  pocket,  yet  not  a  word  that  betrayed  the  * 
pride  of  a  scholar  in  his  converse. 

The  tower  of  Strasburg  cathedral  is  a  work  of 
wonder  and  beauty ;  tall,  massive,  when  seen  in  sha- 
dow, but  when  the  light  shines  through  its  open 
tower  and  spiral  turrets  it  seems  a  fairy  structure. 


GERMANS. 

1  prefer,  however,  and  greatly,   that   of  Antwerp  : 
the  form  is  more  graceful,  and  has  equal  majesty. 

In  a  church  in  this  city  is  the  tomb  of  the  celebra- 
ted Marshal  Saxe.  The  Marshal  is  represented  in 
the  act  of  descending  into  the  grave  ;  a  figure  of 
Death  is  eagerly  opening  the  vault  with  one  hand, 
while  in  the  other  he  holds  up  an  hour-glass,  whence 
the  last  sands  have  just  run  out.  The  figure  of  the 
Marshal,  his  attitude,  his  air,  his  fixed  and  tranquil 
gaze,  are  all  noble  and  expressive  .  and,  whatever 
may  be  the  conceits  and  defects  of  this  monument, 
as  a  whole,  they  are  abundantly  redeemed  by  that 
one  statue. 

The  effect  on  the  beholder  will  be  different  ac- 
cording to  his  age,  his  profession,  his  habits  of 
thought,  and  the  spirit  of  his  religious  impressions. 
No  soldier  can  look  upon  it  without  interest ;  it 
seems  to  say,  I  have  always  known  that  this  was  the 
end,  that 

"  The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave." 

The  natural  heart  throbs  with  pride  to  see  death 
thus  bravely  met,  thus  calmly  despised  ;  but  that 
throb  is  stilled,  that  pride  laid  in  the  dust,  by  one 
awful  thought,  the  force  of  which  has  been  felt  by 
the  very  haughtiest  and  most  daring  intellect  of  our 
day.  It  is  u  the  archangel's  trump  not  glory's"  that 
shall  awaken  him  and  the  youthful  minister  whose 
early  death  and  hnllowed  life  are  recorded  on  a  mo- 
dest tablet  of  marble,  not  far  from  the  encumbered 
monument  of  the  warrior.  The  nameless  persons 
who  gave  the  humble  slab,  at  once  briefly  and  beau- 
tifully describe  the  character  and  worth  of  the  de- 
parted, by  representing  themselves  as  "lugentes  ami- 
cu  auditor es  gratiP 


7b*  GERMANY. 

One  of  the  most  truly  characteristic  figures  that  I 
saw  in  the  city  of  Strasburg  was  a  French  officer  of 
rank,  short  in  stature,  with  large  epaulettes  hanging 
forwards  upon  rounded  shoulders,  and  these  last  rais- 
ed to  the  utmost.  His  sword  was  tucked  under  his 
arm  like  an  umbrella,  his  pace  rapid  and  hurrying  as 
a  London  language-master,  and  his  air  altogether  so 
unmilitary,  that  you  might  traverse  Germany  for 
such  a  figure  in  vain.  Yet  was  his  breast  covered 
with  disregarded  decorations  ;  and  I  could  not  but 
view  that  pace  as  emblematic  of  the  restless  energy 
and  activity  which  enabled  the  armies  of  France  to 
carry  the  eagles  of  Napoleon  wherever  his  bidding 
directed  them. 

The  air  of  the  garrison  was  remarkable.  The 
young  officers  appeared  to  live  through  the  day  with 
laughter,  but  the  older  soldiers  of  humble  rank,  such 
as  captains,  and  those  below  them,  had  that  blank 
air  of  settled  disappointment  and  increasing  ennui 
which,  though  silently,  was  yet  distinctly  and  conti- 
nually asking,  "  Is  this  the  end  ?"—"  Was  it  all  a 
dream  V] — "  Were  we  really  the  conquerors  of  all 
Europe  ?"  Yes,  happily,  it  is  the  end  ;  and  they 
now  mount  the  dull  and  daily  guard  peaceably,  and 
with  as  little  of  pride  as  may  well  consist  with  shako 
and  plume,  and  the  treasured  remembrance  of  those 
electrifying  bulletins  which  so  pithily  recorded  their 
many,  and,  in  truth,  gallant  exploits  in  arms. 

I  think  it  was  from  Kehl,  only  just  across  the  ri- 
ver, that  Napoleon,  in  1809,  issued  one  of  those 
brief  orders  to  his  army  on  suddenly  joining  and  put- 
ting it  in  motion,  which  at  once  prophesied  and  pro- 
duced his  triumphs.  It  called  to  the  recollection  of 
the  soldiers,  that  they  were  round  him  in  his  camp- 
hut  in  Moravia,  when  Austria  swore  eternal  friend- 


GERMANY.  71 

ship  and  fidelity  to  him;  it  spoke  of  moderation  and 
generosity  to  that  power  (with  little  regard  to  truth)  ; 
it  accused  her  of  breaking  a  solemn  treaty  by  pass- 
ing the  line  of  demarcation,  and  thus  commencing 
hostilities;  it  boasted  that,  on  hearing  this  news,  he 
had  flown  to  them  with  the  rapidity  of  the  eagle, 
and  it  closed  with  these  remarkable  words: — "Mar- 
chons,  et  qrfa  vue  de  nous,  que  les  Autrichiens  recon- 
noissent  leurs  vainqueurs" 

The  gentleman  whom  I  had  fallen  in  with  and 
myself  took  a  carriage  between  us  to   Schaffhausen, 

Our  first  halt  for  refreshment  on  the  road  to  Fri- 
burgh  was  at  a  small  town,  the  name  of  which  I 
have  forgotten,  though  I  well  remember  how  the 
aspect  of  the  long  old  street  delighted  me.  Its 
quaint  fronts,  and  its  numerous  bay-windows,  are 
striking  features,  although  these  last  might  be  judg- 
ed useless  to  all  such  old  women  as  delight  in  sitting 
at  them,  for  not  a  human  being  was  moving  in  that 
street  save  ourselves  ;  not  a  boot-tramp,  not  an  ur- 
chin at  play,  or  a  child  crying  ;  not  a  girl  tripping  to 
draw  water :  by  the  way,  the  German  girls  in  this 
part  of  the  world  do  not  trip,  but  they  plant  a  foot, 
and  that  none  of  the  smallest,  firm,  flat,  and  heavily 
on  the  earth.  The  inn  where  we  alighted  was  dis- 
tinguished, even  in  this  old  place,  by  superior  anti- 
quity of  front,  being  richly  ornamented  with  old, 
black  carved  wood-work. 

The  landlord  came  to  the  door,  not  out,  and  salut- 
ed us;  then  asked  the  driver,  while  we  were  de- 
scending, if  we  spoke  German,  and  if  we  wanted  din- 
ner ;  which  last  question  he  repeated  to  us  as  we 
entered  the  house,  and  being  replied  to  in  the  affirm- 
ative, he  walked  slowly  to  order  it.  The  room  was 
quite  a  picture : — several   old  heavy  tables  ;  long. 


78  GERMANY. 

old,  black  settles  against  the  walls,  and  a  few  solid 
wooden  chairs  made  to  outlast  many  a  generation  of 
smokers.  Some  coarse  young  boors  were  drinking 
at  one  table,  an  old  wayfaring  man  taking  ein  zvppen 
at  another;  while  a  third  was  slowly  and  deliberate- 
ly covered  with  a  clean  white  napkin  for  us.  This 
the  old  hostess,  who  was  engaged  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  mangling  great  quantities  of  household  linen 
at  a  heavj'  press  of  black  wood,  delivered  to  him 
from  a  countless  store  in  which  she  seemed  to  pride 
herself,  and  then  resumed  her  occupation  with  a 
plain  unbustling  air.  Now,  for  travellers,  who  go  to 
see,  this  kind  of  thing  is  most  pleasant, — for  those 
(and  there  are  many)  who  go  to  make  a  little  parade 
and  display,  it  must  be  somewhat  mortifying.  Our- 
selves at  one  table,  our  driver  at  another,  the  old 
wayfaring  man,  the  young  boors,  were  all  served 
with  like  attention  of  manner.  Our  fare  was  good, 
our  wine  excellent.  The  host  said  a  word  at  one 
table,  a  "  gut  en  appetite"  at  another,  and  then  chatted 
with  his  wife,  who  quietly  mangled  piece  after  piece, 
and  looked  about  the  room  with  the  air  that  she 
would  if  a  set  of  children  were  feeding  before  her ; 
« — acknowledged  objects  of  her  care,  but  to  whom 
she  did  not  feel  responsible. 

The  masters  of  these  kind  of  country  inns  in  Ger- 
many are  often  represented  by  travellers  as  surly,  de- 
ficient in  courtesy,  and  unwilling  to  accommodate. 
It  is  not  impossible  that  some  of  them,  having  suffer- 
ed not  a  little  from  haughty  exacting  travellers,  may 
intrench  themselves  against  impertinence  by  a  sullen 
demeanour,  and  that  a  few  scattered  individuals  may 
here,  as  in  all  countries,  be  dull  or  brutal ;  but  thus, 
generally,  to  characterize  the  German  landlord  is 
unfaithful,  and  not  fair.    The  truth  is,  the  man  feels 


GERMANY.  T9 

himself  the  master  of  his  own  house ;  he  receives 
strangers  without  obsequiousness,  without  any  very 
eager  desire  to  pick  their  pockets,  but  as  a  plain  host 
ready  to  supply  their  wants  when  made  acquainted 
with  them;  and  if,  while  they  are  under  his  roof,  he 
likes  their  manner,  his  own  will,  in  some  degree, 
warm  up  to  it. 

Such  was  the  impression  I  received,  and  I  found  it 
repeatedly  confirmed. 

Go  where  you  will  in  Germany  the  personal  inde- 
pendence of  the  individual  German  strikes  you  very 
forcibly,  and  it  is,  perhaps,  the  kind  of  contentment 
which  this  generates,  combined  with  a  consciousness 
that  Germany  can  never  be  one  great  united  nation, 
which  renders  him  so  indifferent  to  political  changes, 
so  little  inclined  to  stir  and  rouse  himself  to  produce 
them.  The  word  Father-land  is  indeed  a  talisman 
of  acknowledged  power;  it  unites,  for  the  moment, 
all  true  German  hearts ;  and  their  language,  that 
seems  not  only  to  be  printed,  but  to  be  spoken,  in 
black  letter,  is  another. 

We  slept  at  Emmedingen,  where  there  is  a  good 
inn  of  the  city  stamp.  The  traveller  finds  comfort, 
cleanliness,  and  civility.  We  drove  through  a  very 
beautiful  country  on  a  most  pleasant  morning  to  Fri- 
burgh.  This  city  has  a  particularly  bright,  cheerful 
look,  and  it  being  market-day,  and  all  the  peasantry 
filling  the  streets  in  their  holiday  costume,  the  scene 
was  very  enlivening. 

The  pride  of  Friburgh  is  its  cathedral.  It  is 
among  the  oldest  in  Germany.  Its  tower  with  the 
spire,  by  which  it  is  surmounted,  is  five  hundred  and 
thirteen  feet  in  height,  and  is  said  to  vie  for  renown 
with  that  of  Strasburg.  Seen  from  below  or  from  a 
distance  it  certainly  does  not  produce  an  effect  so 
6 


GO  GERMANY. 

imposing.  Moreover,  the  site  here  is  unfavourable  ; 
for  hills  of  a  bold  and  abrupt  elevation  arise  too  near, 
and  such  character  of  stately  grandeur  as  we  natu- 
rally associate  with  loftiness  is  thus  altogether  lost. 
But  when  you  ascend  the  tower  and  pass  into  a  large 
hollow  spire  of  open  stone-work,  wreathed  and 
twisted  as  fancifully  as  an  elegant  toy  might  be,  yet 
of  a  strength  that  has  defied  ages,  you  are  powerful- 
ly struck  with  the  taste  of  the  design,  with  the  la- 
bour, and  daring  of  the  execution.  A  light  beautiful 
thing  to  look  up  through  to  the  blue  sky,  and  out 
upon  the  leafy  hills  : — a  moonlight  hour  there  would 
be  magical.  It  were  worth  some  delay  to  see  it  in 
the  noon  of  a  bright  night, — a  temple,  as  it  were, 
above  a  temple  ;  such  as  the  Persian  might  have 
worshipped  in  ;  as  open  to  the  light  and  air  of  hea- 
ven as  a  mountain's  top  ;  a  place  where  you  al- 
most fancy  that  angels  might  delight  to  gather  and 
stand  with  white  wings  folded,  and  all  attent  for  hu- 
man sighs  ;  those  sighs  which  grateful  love,  when 
chance  awakened  in  the  still  night,  breathes  to  a 
God  of  mercy. 

The  choir  of  this  cathedral  is  kept  too  clean  ;  the 
wood-work  shines  with  the  oil  and  varnish  of  yester- 
day ;  the  white  and  yellow  washes  on  the  walls  Iook- 
ed  fresh  ;  the  pictures  and  their  frames  were  clean. 
In  cathedrals  I  love  "  dusty  splendour."  Those 
words,  however,  stand  alone  for  the  banner-tapestri- 
ed roof  of  some  vast  and  glorious  pile,  like  our  West- 
minster-abbey. There  is  an  university  in  this  city. 
In  the  saloon  of  the  inn  where  we  breakfasted  we 
observed  several  heads  of  the  small  roebuck,  a  game 
that  abounds  in  the  mountains  near.  The  table  d? 
hote  was  laid  for  the  dinner  of  noon  ;  it  was  a  table 
frequented  by  several  of  the  students,     I  noticed  one 


GERMA.W  81 

napkin-holder  embroidered  in  the  fashion  of  our  old 
samplers  at  home.  Do  they  still  exist,  by  the  way, 
in  dear  Old  England,  these  samplers  ?  are  they  still 
worked  by  the  simple  daughters  of  our  honest  far- 
mers ?  The  inscription  on  this  was,  "  Jlnsicht  in 
alles," — u  Foresight  in  all  things," — the  sensible  cau- 
tion of  some  prudent  mother  ;  and  very  honourable 
was  it  to  see  that  the  young  man  to  whom  it  belonged 
could  fearlessly  use  it  in  public  among  his  associates. 
I  should  like  to  have  seen  such  a  youth  ;  but  we  set 
forward  again  before  the  party  assembled.  The  fact 
is,  that  you  cannot  laugh  home  out  of  a  young  Ger- 
man's heart.  I  will  venture  to  say,  that  any  person, 
thoroughly  conversant  in  the  German  language,  might 
try  the  experiment  upon  German  feeling,  among  the 
wildest  of  the  young  biirschen  in  Jena,  or  any  where 
else,  and  find  the  response  most  prompt,  affecting, 
and  true. 

Our  route  now  lay  through  the  Hollenthal :  this  is 
a  very  disappointing  misnomer :  you  prepare  your 
mind  for  horrors,  true  German  horrors,  impending 
cliffs,  and  black  pines  that  topple  on  them,  and  cast 
eternal  shades ;  huge  masses  of  rock  hanging  in 
those  frightfully-suspended  fragments  that  menace 
the  traveller,  every  moment,  with  a  crushing  death, 
and  the  torrent's  voice,  and  the  boiling  bubble  of 
waters  that  have  fallen  headlong  from  high  steeps. 
These  things  your  fancy  images  forth  in  the  Hollen- 
thal, the  Valley  of  Hell.  Well,  there  is  nothing  of 
all  this :  in  parts  where  the  defile  becomes  narrow, 
the  scenery  is  romantic  and  bold,  but  no  where  has 
it  any  character  of  sublimity  or  terror;  on  the  con- 
trary, by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  route  it  is  softly 
beautiful,  a  sheltered,  secure,  peaceful  vale.  About 
the  middle  of  it  we  stopped  to  refresh,  at  a  clean, 


32  GERMANY. 

delightful  little  inn,  Welsh-like.  It  is  situated  in 
one  of  those  sweet  spots,  on  which,  if  a  man  has  ever 
gazed,  he  is  sure  to  think  again,  when  care  or  sorrow 
press  upon  him.  It  is  a  place  to  linger  in,  never  to 
leave  :  the  sights  are  velvet  meadows  and  sheltering 
hills,  and  hlack  fir-screens,  and  cottages,  house-cottages 
for  large  families,  with  pent-house  roofs,  or  hroad 
projecting  eaves,  and  covered  all  over  with  shingles, 
or  tiles  of  wood,  being  at  once  the  most  serviceable 
and  tasteful  dwellings.  I  never  saw  any  thing,  in 
their  way,  more  beautifully  neat  than  the  small 
wooden  tiles.  To  these  objects  may  be  added  clear, 
sparkling,  and  glassy  streams  ; — not  forgetting  their 
sounds ; — the  cheerful,  happy  rushing  down  ; — and 
their  busier  talk  as  they  turn  the  water-wheels  of 
clean  saw-mills,  and  are  sung  to  by  contented  la- 
bourers. 

On  the  day  on  which  we  passed  the  Hollenthal, 
almost  all  through  the  valley  they  were  getting  in 
their  after-grass ;  and  nothing  could  be  more  pictu- 
resque than  the  effect  of  the  many  groupes  of  hay- 
makers,— first,  from  the  beautiful  site  of  almost  all 
these  meadows, — next,  from  the  rustic  taste  of  the 
peasants  :  they  wear  broad  straw  hats,  which,  being 
painted  straw-colour,  preserve  a  new  brightness, 
and  look  summer-like  and  rational,  conveying  an 
idea  of  enjoyment,  which  we  are  always  happy  to 
think  may  be  associated  with  labour.  As  we  passed 
up  out  of  this  valley,  we  gained  a  country  open,  but 
still  hilly,  and  still  beautiful,  a  wild,  a  dreary  beauty, 
such  as  suited  with  the  blue  cold  grey  of  that  even- 
ing's sky,  and  prepared  us,  as  the  night  fell,  to  desire 
any  resting-place,  and  taught  us  content  with  that 
we  found.  It  was  a  small,  wretched  cabaret :  here, 
a  dish  of  thin  soup,  made  from  the  field-pea,  a  rag 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

of  black  meat,  and  bread  and  wine  alike  sour,  made 
us  glad  to  creep  between  coarse  paillasses  of  straw, 
and  forget  that  they  were  not  down,  and  that  our 
fare  had  not  been  more  palatable  and  wholesome. 
We  departed  very  early  in  the  morning  :  at  a  village 
on  the  road  we  saw  a  funeral,  attended,  apparently, 
by  the  entire  population  of  it:  all  were  dressed 
coarsely,  but  decently  and  alike,  and  the  scene  was 
gratifying.  The  same  afternoon  we  reached  Schaff- 
hausen. 

Switzerland  is  to  no  thinking  mind  a  strange  coun- 
try:  we  form  acquaintance  with  it  in  books,  in  draw- 
ings, in  models,  by  every  after-dinner  talk  :  dine 
where  you  will,  some  man  has  seen  the  lake  of  Gene- 
va and  Montblanc;  and  you  can  ask  no  question 
about  Switzerland  at  table,  but  some  person  is  ready 
with  a  reply.  Conscious  of  this,  and  having  seen 
but  a  small  tract  of  it,  and  that  only  in  passing,  yet 
can  I  not  resist  the  pleasure  of  recording,  briefly, 
what  1  saw  and  felt,  in  a  very  short  traverse  of  that 
most  interesting  line  of  countrj',  from  Schaffhausen 
to  the  St.  Gothard.  This  is  German  Switzerland, 
and  partakes,  in  many  ways,  of  the  sober  and  ster- 
ling character  of  the  father-land.  The  town  of  Schaff- 
hausen is  German  in  aspect,  the  houses  quaint  and 
old-fashioned,  the  appearance  of  the  people  staid 
and  quiet,  and  their  dress  plain,  and  without  any 
singularity.  A  few  peasant  women,  whom  1  saw  on 
the  bridge,  wore  a  head-dress  of  black  crape,  not 
becoming,  but  yet  interesting  to  the  stranger's  eye, 
as  the  provincial  costume  of  the  lower  orders. 

My  companion  and  myself  strolled  slowly  about 
the  town,  and  among  the  quiet  gardens  in  the  sub- 
urbs, and  at  last  seated  ourselves  on  a  low  wall, 
just  without  the  gate,  close  by  the  Rhine,  at  that 


34  GERMAN    SWITZERLAND. 

point  where  its  blue  waters  roll,  in  a  glassy  volume, 
over  a  gentle  fall  or  break  in  the  river's  bed. 
Smoothly  they  glide,  even  as  youth,  all  smiling  and 
unwrinkled,  and  most  gently  overflow  ;  then  is  their 
clear  beauty  gone,  and  they  break  in  troubled  foam 
below. 

There  is  no  converse  like  social  silence  on  such  a 
spot;  no  painting,  no  poetry,  no  music,  like  such  a 
scene,  and  such  sounds.  The  soul  is  mysteriously 
moved,  and  answers  to  that  "  ceaseless  flow,"  that 
voice  eternal,  with  a  feeling  that  assures  to  it  its 
own  immortality. 

The  next  day  we  drove  to  the  falls.  I  am  told 
they  generally  disappoint  travellers  ;  what,  then,  do 
they  expect  ?  Sanguine  as  1  am,  and  much  as  1  have 
seen,  my  expectations  were  surpassed.  Visiting  them, 
as  we  did,  from  Schaff  hausen,  our  views  came  exactly 
in  the  order  which  1  should,  under  any  circumstances, 
prefer.  For  a  great  part  of  our  drive  we  could  see 
the  waters  in  their  ordinary  flow  ;  here,  deeply  blue ; 
there,  glancing  green ;  there,  feathering  in  the  eddy  : 
but,  as  they  approach  the  rocks,  their  motion  slack- 
ens to  a  calm,  slow  roll,  with  a  smooth  surface.  For 
a  little  while  you  lose  sight  of  them,  but  you  hear 
them  ;  not,  however,  very  loud.  You  now  enter 
the  castle  of  Laufen,  and,  going  into  a  small  sum- 
mer-house, lean  from  the  window,  and  look  imme- 
diately down  upon  the  fall.  Broken  in  its  course 
by  large  fragments  of  rock,  which  rear  their  wet 
heads  above  the  rushing  waters,  the  Rhine  angrily 
divides  itself  into  five  columns,  two  of  amazing  gran- 
deur, and,  bursting  past  these  barriers,  breaks  in  a 
sea  of  foam,  and  a  voice  of  thunder,  below.  It  is  a 
fine  thing  to  lean  over,  and  feel  the  spray  which  they 
toss  up  at  you.  and  to  hear  their  loud  and  conquering 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND.  £3 

rush.  Next,  you  pass  to  a  gallery  below,  built  in 
under  the  rock,  and  close  to  the  great  mass  of  the 
largest  body  of  water.  I  went  over  the  slippery 
plank,  and  leaned  upon  the  rail, — wet  and  trembling 
— not  with  fear ;  every  thing  trembles  ;  the  board 
you  stand  on,  the  rail  which  you  lean  upon,  the  trees 
on  the  nearest  islet ;  the  very  rock  looks  unsteady 
as  you  gaze.  It  is  impossible  to  stand  here  without 
experiencing  the  strongest,  yet  sweetest,  emotions. 
There  is  awe  sublime,  and  yet  present  confidence  : 
you  know  that  the  waters  have  their  bounds,  which 
they  cannot  pass ;  the  hand  of  Him  who  walked  the 
waves,  and  rebuked  the  storm,  upholds  and  reins 
them,  as  they  leap  their  headlong  course,  and  that, 
too,  with  fearful  roarings,  as  if  they  lived,  and  could^ 
and  would,  but  for  the  God  who  holds  them  chained, 
and  guides  their  mad  career,  devour  you.  You 
admire,  but  you  tremble  as  you  admire.  Thus,  near 
the  bars  of  a  new-caught  lion's  den,  as  they  see  him 
chafe,  and  hear  his  loud  forest-voice,  the  safe  crowd 
stand  backwarder  in  fear.  I  think  the  Rhine-falls 
glorious  :  the  view  I  least  enjoyed  is  the  full  front 
one  from  the  house  or  mill  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  and  that  in  crossing  is  like  it.  There  is  not 
height  enough  then,  and  the  spread  is  too  great. 
Three  German  students  stepped  into  the  boat  as  we 
got  out,  with  knapsacks  on  their  backs,  and  staves  in 
their  hands,  and  sung  together,  as  the  young  and  the 
happy  may  and  should.  We  went  to  the  camera 
obscura,  because  it  is  usual,  and  therefore  right  to 
give  the  expected  fee  ;  but  I  confess  that  I  like  not 
rocks  and  rivers  so  represented.  A  camera  obscura 
I  can  be  amused  by  for  hours,  when  man  is  the  thing- 
exhibited, — man  Lilliputianised.  It  is  a  fine  lesson 
of  humility  to  see  thus  a  crowded  and  fashionable 


06  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

esplanade,  a  race-course,  a  review,  a  procession  ; 
but  a  mountain  and  a  waterfall  should  never  be 
reduced  to  miniature  size,  save  by  the  draughtsman, 
where,  as  he  can  never  give  the  hue  of  nature  and 
the  motion  of  life,  yoii  take  his  sketch,  as  it  is 
intended,  for  a  memento,  an  aid  to  the  memory  and 
the  imagination. 

We  proceeded  on  our  route,  and  dined  at  Winter- 
thur.  After  our  repast  we  walked  forwards,  leaving 
the  carriage  to  overtake  us,  The  road  is  pleasant : 
the  country  residences  have  a  look  of  plain  comfort, 
but  little  of  taste.  The  two  villages  we  passed  were 
not  clean,  and  the  appearance  of  the  peasantry  very 
disappointing.  Such  trifling  disappointments,  how- 
ever, are  at  once  forgotten  as  you  ascend  the  higher 
ground,  and  see,  far  on  your  left,  a  line  of  Alps 
crowned  with  snows,  and  clothed  grandly  in  majestic 
shadows.  The  day  was  of  that  fitful  cast,  now  bright, 
now  summer  cloud,  that  at  first  we  asked,  are  they 
of  our  world,  or  of  that  heavenly  one  above  us  ? 
but,  as  the  eye  caught,  and  clearly  took  in,  the  fixed 
outline,  and  realised  their  giant  forms,  we  recognised 
the  great  features  of  that  scenery  which  hallows  all 
the  land. 

I  think  that  Zurich  has  been  overrated  :  the  city  is 
ill,  and  not  conveniently,  built.  The  environs  are 
beautiful  :  the  view  from  the  promenade  up  the  lake 
is  a  fine  thing,  from  which  you  are  slow  to  turn 
away. 

We  visited  the  library,  where  are  preserved  the 
letters  of  Lady  Jane  Grey  to  Bullinger.  The  hand- 
writing is  the  beautiful  scholar-hand  of  the  period  in 
which  she  lived.  My  companion  kissed  her  signa- 
ture (for  which  I  liked  him  the  better)  :  perhaps  I 
should  have  done  so.  had  I  been  alone;  but  without 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND.  87 

you  originate  an  act  of  folly  it  has  no  charm  for  you. 
We  went  to  the  armory,  and,  among  other  relics, 
saw  the  cross-how  of  William  Tell.  The  name  and 
the  fame  of  Tell  are  one,  and  enough  ;  hut  in  this 
part  of  Switzerland  they  serve  it  up  after  a  fashion 
most  offensive  to  taste  :  not  an  inn  do  you  enter  but 
a  set  of  French  prints  stare  at  you  from  the  walls, 
where  this  self-ennobled  peasant  is  most  provokingly 
represented  in  a  pair  of  tight  white  pantaloons, 
chapeau  a  plume,  veste  a  la  Milanese,  and  bottes  au 
Hongrois*  just,  in  fact,  as  some  artiste  is  made  to 
screech  the  part  in  an  opera,  or  pirouette  it  in  a  ballet 
at  Paris.  This  is  intolerable,  and  speaks  volumes 
for  the  regular  inn-tour  of  Switzerland. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  spots  in  Zurich  is  the 
small  still  square  containing  the  church  in  which 
Lavater  preached,  and  the  house  in  which  he  dwelt 
From  a  low  wall  you  can  look  down  into  the  garden, 
where  he  was  wont  to  walk,  and  in  or  near  which 
he  was  slain,  when  the  fierce  troops  of  Massena  pos- 
sessed themselves  of  this  helpless  and  unoffending 
city. 

The  route  towards  Zug  is  delightful.  The  views 
of  the  Zurich  lake  are  enchanting,  and  ever  varying. 
The  look  back  upon  the  city  in  ascending  a  hill  a 
few  miles  distant  is  particularly  fine  ;  and  as  you 
drive  forward  new  features  of  the  lake  open  at 
every  step. 

As  we  crossed  the  Mount  Albis,  and  began  to 
descend,  of  a  sudden  there  burst  upon  our  sight  Alps 
in  their  white  raiment.  Mount  Rlghi-  and  Mount 
Pilate  stood  on  either  side  of  this  picture  in  the  fore- 
ground, and  their  dark  and  wild  forms,  especially  that 
of  Pilate,  gave  a  wonderful  effect  to  the  snowy  sum- 
mits, which  filled  the  centre  and  back-ground,  and 


$8  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND 

rose  pure  and  clear  into  the  blue  sky.  The  scene 
had  a  stilling  power.  Your  senses  are  afterwards 
relieved  and  lulled  by  the  soft  green  beauties  through 
which  Zug  is  approached.  The  inn  at  Zug  is  quiet 
and  silent ;  so  is  the  place  itself.  There  is  a  small 
maison  de  campagne  here  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  the  town,  situated  most  delightfully,  and  com- 
manding a  view  which  combines  all  that  is  lovely 
and  magnificent.  There  is  an  old  painted  chamber 
in  this  chateau  where  are  the  portraits  of  all  the 
kings  of  France,  and  where  Tell  is  represented  on 
the  walls  other  than  in  the  print  from  the  passage 
Feydeau.  There  is  a  small  painted  oratory  in  this 
building  with  a  little  gallery-closet  above  :  in  the 
garden  is  a  summer-house  for  eventide.  It  is  alto- 
gether a  sweet  spot:  I  saw  not  one  in  my  brief  pas- 
sage through  the  land  where  I  would  so  gladly  have 
anchored  for  life.  Our  guide  led  us  from  hence  to 
a  cemetery.  The  graves  are  all  surmounted  by 
crosses  of  figured  iron-work,  upheld  by  painted  metal 
cherubim,  with  texts  and  little  pictures  of  the  Virgin, 
or  the  Passion,  or  Crucifixion,  or  some  martyrdom, 
and  there  is  a  great  profusion  of  gilding  on  these 
crosses.  There  is  also  a  large  grated  ossuary,  where 
the  piled  skulls  are  preserved,  and  on,  or  underneath 
many  of  them,  on  a  pasted  slip  of  paper,  }'ou  read 
the  name  of  the  dead.  Most  painful  sights  these. 
I  like  not  gilding  on  the  grave  ;  still  less  do  1  like 
to  see  a  name,  that  thing  which  calls  up  features, 
and  all  that  may  have  been  endearing  in  their  expres- 
sion, written  upon  a  sightless,  fleshless  skull.  There 
are  some  flowers  planted  near  the  tombs.  This  is 
well,  and  the  only  thing  that  relieves  the  feeling  of 
the  pensive  mourner.  I  would  have  fresh  turf  and 
earlv  flowers    and    evergreen  shrubs  in   all   burial 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND.  89 

grounds  ;  and  trees,  (not  the  black  yew)  but  green 
trees,  should  spread  their  pleasant  shadows  over  the 
still  tenants  of*  silent  graves,  who  rest  from  their 
labours. 

Two  men,  assisted  by  a  woman,  rowed  us  across 
the  lake  of  Zug.  This  small  lake  is,  in  its  kind, 
and  for  its  size,  perfect.  On  the  left  mountain 
heights,  a  chapel  (St.  Adrian)  at  their  feet ;  to  your 
right,  a  pleasant  bay  ;  before  you,  the  village  of  Art ; 
and  uprising  from  the  lake,  on  the  right  of  Art,  the 
royal  Righi.  We  refreshed  ourselves  at  Art,  and 
ascended  this  monarch  of  mountains  from  Goldau. 
Where  is  Goldau  ?  you  ask.  It  was  here,  is  the 
reply,  as  you  arrive  in  a  desolate  vaie,  filled  with 
huge  fragments  of  rock,  which  have  bedded  them- 
selves in  the  earth  and  are  overgrown  with  grass. 
All  over  the  plain,  where  these  lie,  are  huge  heaps 
of  poor  thin  mountain  soil,  which  fell  together  with 
those  masses  of  rock  on  the  fatal  second  of  Septem- 
ber, 1806.  On  this  melancholy  day,  so  memorable 
in  this  sweet  neighbourhood,  a  vast  portion  of  the 
Mount  Roethan,  loosened  by  heavy  »and  continued 
rains,  after  the  short  and  awful  menace  of  a  few 
falling  stones,  the  rising  of  disturbed  and  affrighted 
birds,  a  subterraneous  sound  as  of  the  breaking  of 
strong  roots,  and  the  rocking  of  dark  straight  pines, 
rushed,  rapid  as  the  waters  of  a  torrent,  upon  Gol- 
dau, and  silenced  the  village  bells,  and  the  poor  flock 
that  knew  their  joyful  sound,  for  ever.  More  than 
one  hundred  cottages  were  destroyed,  and  four  hun- 
dred persons  perished.  The  cheerful  guide,  who 
was  accompanying  the  pleasure  party  up  the  Righi, 
on  that  morning,  started  at  the  terrific  noise,  looked 
back,  and  saw  the  end  of  his  little  world.  The 
Swiss  soldier,  in  his  distant  camp,  learned  that  ftte 


90  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND 

bad  lost,  in  one  short  moment,  all  his  kindred, — all 
the  tombs  of  his  forefathers ;  that  the  very  font,  in 
which  he  was  christened,  was  a  broken  and  buried 
stone,  and  the  place  of  his  nativity  no  more. 

It  is  well  to  climb  on  one  of  the  masses  of  rock 
and  ruin,  and  to  gaze  around  you ;  well,  as  you 
ascend  the  Righi,  often  to  pause  and  turn  the  head, 
and  look  steadily  at  this  spot,  brown,  desolate,  and 
unfertile,  save  where,  here  and  there,  a  little  coarse 
grass  is  mowed  for  fodder, — mowed  by  some  grey 
and  widowed  labourer,  who  works  slowly  and  bro- 
kenly as  the  thought  of  other  days  comes  o'er  his 
blank  mind,  and  fills  it  with  the  painful  memory  of 
all  that  he  has  long  lost. 

The  pathway  up  the  mountain  is  fine.  First  it 
lies  through  green  and  sloping  meadows,  then  on 
among  black  pines  and  naked  hills,  and  falling 
streams.  We  passed  through  the  hospice,  and  only 
saw  one  face,  that  looked  from  one  of  the  mountain 
inns  chilly  and  uninvitingly,  and  that  soured  as  we 
passed  on.  We  slept  at  a  rude  cottage  auberge,  con- 
siderably higher,  where,  as  night  now  fell,  we  deter- 
mined to  sleep,  and  to  go  before  day-break  to  the 
summit  of  the  mountain. 

Nothing  could  be  more  confused  and  noisy  than 
the  guest-chamber;  a  party  of  scholars,  most  of  them 
boys,  and  some  travelling  students  from  Germany, 
filled  it  with  clamour.  Tea,  punch,  bad  food,  and 
bad  wine,  were  noisily  called  for,  and  noisily  con- 
sumed amid  clouds  of  smoke.  We  were  fortunate 
enough  to  get  each  a  little  chamber  to  ourselves. 
Mine  was  a  clean  closet,  and,  though  small,  cool 
with  the  mountain  air ;  a  healthy  and  a  happy  sleep- 
ing place.  The  morning  brought  its  disappointment 
The  guide  awoke  me  to  say.  that  there  was  a  heavy 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND.  91 

fog,  and  that  we  should  be  able  to  see  nothing  at 
sunrise  whatever.  We  did  not,  therefore,  rise  till  it 
was  light,  and  then  proceeded  up  towards  the  Coulme. 
We  met  several  parties  descending :  in  one  I  recog- 
nized an  acquaintance,  who  gave  the  natural  reproach 
for  not  sleeping  on  the  Coulme,  and  being  up  and 
out  before  dawn,  bui  added  the  frank  confession, 
that  it  had  been  impossible  to  see  any  thing  from  the 
state  of  the  atmosphere.  Now  did  I  feel  in  high 
good  fortune,  for  I  saw  signs  of  clearer  weather. 
We  went  on  ;  breakfasted  leisurely  in  the  deserted 
hotel ;  the  fog  passed  away,  and  we  had  a  full  and 
satisfying  view  of  the  Alpine  chain.  Moreover,  we 
had  the  mountain  top  to  ourselves,  to  enjoy  it  undis- 
turbed by  any  of  those  large  travelling  groups  who 
herd  at  appointed  hours  in  appointed  places,  with 
guide-books  open,  maps  flying  in  the  wind,  and 
guides'  fingers  pointing  in  every  direction  :  this  last 
thing  you  cannot  well  avoid.  The  better  way  is  to 
submit,  follow  his  finger.,  let  him  name  the  heads 
and  peaks  of  all  the  summits  in  your  sight,  and  get 
rid  of  him  as  soon  and  as  easily  as  you  most  probably 
will  of  the  greater  part  of  his  information.  A  few, 
indeed,  of  the  rude  expressive  names  strike  finely 
upon  the  ear,  and  carry  back  the  mind  to  the  rough 
and  noble  race  by  whom  they  probably  were  first 
given.  But  a  long  list  of  names  perplexes,  without 
interesting  the  beholder.  To  the  eye,  to  the  mind, 
it  is  the  vast,  the  grand,  the  mighty  mountain-crowd, 
— their  glorious  apparel,  their  wild  array,  head 
behind  head,  here  snowy,  there  black,  all  still, — a 
world  in  themselves, — nothing  to  live,  and  play,  and 
move  upon  them,  but  the  sunbeam  and  the  shadow, 
When,  sated  with  this  most  sublime  picture  of  the 
majesty  of  the  Creator,  vou  look  below,  there  lies 
7 


92  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

at  the  very  mountain  foot  the  little  Lake  of  Zug,— 
a  thing,  thus  seen,  of  the  most  delicate  and  fairy 
beauty  ;  for  it  is  but  as  a  small  green  gem  of  the 
most  transparent  water. 

The  descent  of  the  Righi,  on  the  Kusnacht  side, 
presents  a  succession  of  fine  views.  About  a  third 
of  the  way  down,  we  met  two  peasant  girls  of  Lu- 
cerne going  up  to  the  chapel  at  the  hospice,  in  the 
full  costume  of  their  province.  This  is  Switzerland  ; 
this  is  costume ;  nothing  can,  in  its  way,  be  more 
perfect :  it  is  better  than  Arcadian, — the  plain  look 
pretty  in  it,  the  pretty,  charming.  A  round,  flat 
straw  hat  sits  lightly  on  the  very  crown  of  the  head  ; 
the  glossy  hair  is  parted  across  the  forehead,  and 
falls  in  two  iong  braids  behind,  interwoven  and  adorn- 
ed with  a  ribbon  of  pink  ;  a  neck-kerchief,  of  a  pret- 
ty plaid  like  check,  is  wrapped  flatly  and  modestly 
over  the  bosom,  nearly  to  the  throat ;  round  the 
white  throat  is  a  collar  of  black  velvet ;  the  white 
sleeves  of  the  under  vest  hang  full  and  loose  at  the 
shoulder,  leaving  bare  the  fore  arm  ;  a  coloured  cor- 
set with  coloured  strings,  a  coloured  apron,  all  rustic, 
and  all  in  keeping;  with  a  stocking  of  white,  and  a 
shoe-tie  of  red  ribbon,  complete  the  picture. 

What  wonder  that  the  manly  Swiss  drew  their 
brave  bows  against  Gessler  and  his  mercenaries, 
with  wives  and  daughters  looking  thus  ? 

It  is  with  a  feeling  of  deep  delight  that  the  travel- 
ler stands  before  the  small  and  still  revered  chapel 
of  Tell.  It  is  erected  on  the  very  spot  where  he 
lay  wait  for  the  tyrant  Gessler,  and  first  levelled  an 
arrow  against  the  life  of  a  fellow-creature.  A  group 
of  boys  and  peasant  girls  were  sitting  near  it.  An 
old  woman  is  the  guardian  of  it ;  and  a  rude  paint- 
ing on  the  wall  commemorates  Tell's  history. 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND.  93 

We  walked  slowly  into  the  town.  The  church 
he\h  were  ringing,  and  all  the  inhabitants  hurrying 
there  in  their  holiday  dresses.  The  men  appear  to 
have  preserved  little  remarkable  in  their  costume  ; 
but  the  women  were  either  dressed  as  I  have  de- 
scribed above  or  with  caps,  some  of  white  muslin, 
others  of  black  crape,  with  high  fan-like  crests, 
something  like  the  crest  of  Achilles ;  or,  to  be 
homely,  that  of  a  domestic  cock.  1  stood  in  the 
church-yard,  and  watched  the  congregation  coming 
in.  There  are  flowers  here  among  the  monumental 
crosses,  and  near  most  of  them  a  small  metal  vase 
of  holy  water.  I  observed  that  almost  all  the  pass- 
ers-by sprinkled  water  on  some  grave,  and  crossed 
themselves,  and  uttered  a  brief  prayer :  near  the 
more  recently  erected  crosses  some  longer  paused, 
and  heaved  the  unavailing  sigh. 

Among  the  female  peasants  was  one  about  sixteen 
years  of  age,  with  the  tasteful  straw  hat,  and  braids 
of  dark  brown  hair  that  hung  nearly  the  length  of 
her  dress.  She  was  as  innocently  beautiful  a  being 
of  her  happy  lowly  class  as  I  ever  beheld.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  that  they  will  not  send  her  to  sell  their 
market  produce  at  Lucerne.  It  is  related  in  that 
city,  that  a  peasant  girl  of  the  neighbourhood,  who 
frequented  their  markets  some  few  years  ago,  and 
who,  from  her  exceeding  loveliness,  and  that  happy 
taste  which  is  so  natural  to,  and  so  dangerous  a  gift 
in  the  lovely,  so  dressed  in  the  costume  of  her  coun- 
try as  to  become  the  model  of  it,  was  seen  by  a 
wealthy  traveller,  desired,  and  purchased — purchas- 
ed by  the  vilest  means,  and  in  the  most  heartless 
manner — purchased  for  one  midnight  hour,  and  sent 
back  polluted  to  her  mountain  home,  with  the  wages 
of  dishonour  for  a  dowry,  to  bribe  the  iirst  suitor. 


94  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

poor  in  spirit  as  in  purse,  who  might  take  the  sullied 
lily.  Have  not  cities  their  stews  ?  Be  not  cities  the 
places  man  has  made  that  he  may  dwell  with  his 
darling  sins  in  a  fitting  atmosphere  ?  But  the  shore 
of  the  lake,  and  the  valley  of  the  mountain,  can  he 
not  leave  them  free  ?  Must  he  bring  his  accursed 
gold  to  them  ? — and  if  he  is  to  play  seducer  with  a 
purse,  will  not  some  tainted  tawdry  thing,  inviting 
her  ruin  and  welcoming  corruption,  serve  his  base 
turn  ? — why  come  to  the  mountain  peasant  girl  ? 
The  crime  of  such  conduct  may  be  thought  by  sound 
minds  and  cold  judgments  the  same  in  either  case  ; 
yet,  I  confess,  to  woo,  to  win,  to  destroy  the  inno- 
cence of  an  ignorant,  and,  in  so  far,  helpless  rustic, 
does  seem  to  me  a  guilt  of  deeper  dye.  How  can 
such  a  man  climb  the  rocky  summit,  tread  upon  the 
cracking  glacier,  cross  the  blue  chasm,  move  by  the 
precipice's  side,  and  hang  over  the  roaring  torrent  ? 
Will  they  not  speak  reproaches  to  him  even  as  the 
voice  of  God  ?  Will  they  not  deny  to  him  that  su- 
blime pleasure  which  they  can  minister  to  the  soul 
of  man ;  and  send  him  back  from  their  pure  regions 
with  a  heart  stony  and  unmoved,  with  a  mind  unsa- 
tisfied, disappointed,  and  impatient  of  their  solitudes  ? 
— I  think  so,  and  I  hope  that  I  am  not  mistaken. 

The  inn  at  Kusnacht  commands  a  most  delightful 
view  of  the  lake  from  its  windows.  As  we  sat  at 
our  repast,  the  organ  and  the  assembled  voices  of 
the  peasant  congregation  in  the  church  near  rose  in 
swelling  and  praiseful  notes  to  Heaven.  The  scene 
of  the  morning  in  my  memory,  the  figures  1  had  met, 
the  view  from  the  window,  the  frank  hospitality  of 
the  people  of  the  house,  the  simple  and  grateful  fare 
before  us,  the  resting  here,  and  thus,  will  cause  me 
long  to  recollect  the  spot  and  the  moment  with  a 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND.  05 

feeling  of  unminglcd  gratitude   for  a  draught  of  no 
common  happiness. 

The  row  upon  the  lake  from  Kusnacht  to  Lucerne 
is  beautiful ;  and  there  was  yet  day  enough  when 
we  reached  the  city  for  us  to  saunter  along  the  cu- 
rious old  wooden  bridge,  and  to  pass  round  the  city 
walls  by  a  pleasant  path  which  leads  across  the 
meads  on  the  hill  above  them.  In  one  of  the  most 
retired  of  these  fields  we  met  a  young  German  stu- 
dent, with  u  horrid  hair,''  who  certainly  looked  sus- 
picious and  guilty.  We  thought,  from  many  infalli- 
ble indications,  that  he  was  just  finishing  the  last  act 
of  some  bloody  tragedy,  and  probably  giving  the 
coup  de  grace  to  his  hero.  We  were  walking  so 
provoking!)'  slow,  that  he  had  to  compress  the  god 
within  him  for  many  minutes.  In  the  morning  we 
visited  the  church,  the  arsenal,  and  examined  more 
leisurely  the  paintings  on  the  bridge.  There  is  an 
object  near  Lucerne  that  no  traveller  should  leave 
the  place  without  visiting,  and  on  which  no  one  can 
gaze  unmoved  : — it  is  a  monument  to  the  memory  of 
the  Swiss  Guards,  who  fell  on  the  memorable  10th 
of  August,  1792.  The  design  is  truly  noble,  and  the 
execution  very  affecting  and  expressive.  Upon  the 
face  of  a  rude  and  scarped  rock,  in  a  retired  spot 
not  far  from  the  gates,  a  lion  has  been  sculptured  in 
full  and  bold  relief,  and  of  a  colossal  size.  The 
shaft  of  a  huge  spear,  broken  short  off,  just  appears 
above  the  side  ;  the  iron  head,  which  has  given  the 
death-wound,  is  buried  deep  within.  The  royal 
beast  reclines  his  head  on  his  fore  paw,  which  still 
grasps  a  shield  (as  though  to  guard  it),  with  lilies  on 
its  field;  another,  with  the  cross,  stands  near,  and 
weapons  that  have  been  used  and  broken  in  the 
struggle  lie  by  its  side.     The  eye  of  the  noble  ani- 


96  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND, 

mal  is  not  yet  quite  closed,  and  the   feeble  growl  of 
a  fidelity,  that  must  soon  cease  to  avail  for  any  pur- 
pose of  defence,  seems  parting,   only  with  the  last 
gasp  of  life,  from  the  open  and  relaxing  jaws. 
In  large  letters  above  is  sculptured — 

HELVETIORUM    FIDEI    AC    V1RTUTI. 

The  inscription  beneath  the  monument  records 
the  numbers  lost,  and  the  names  of  the  officers  who 
fell. 

It  is  not  often  that  we  can  allow  ourselves  to  be  so 
strongly  moved  over  the  grave  of  mercenaries  as 
here.  But  the  fidelity,  born  of  honour,  gratitude, 
and  a  reverence  for  the  soldier's  oath,  displayed  by 
these  men,  when  the  tempest  of  adversity  fell  most 
heavily  on  their  ro}ral  patrons,  and  when  the  deser- 
tion of  them  might  have  secured  not  only  life  but 
reward,  nay,  future  distinction,  (and  I  need  hardly 
add,  amid  draughts  of  prosperity  a  quick  oblivion  of 
their  crime,)  demands  the  tribute  of  honest  tears, 
and  deserves  to  be  thus  recorded. 

We  took  a  boat  from  Lucerne  to  Altorf.  If  there 
is  any  lake-scenery  in  Switzerland  which  can,  by 
any  possibility,  surpass  this  of  the  four  cantons,  I 
strive  in  vain  to  image  to  myself  what  it  can  pre- 
sent. The  day  was  most  favourable  ;  for  the  first 
hour  or  more  all  sunshine,  and  the  water  calm  and 
like  a  mirror;  then  clouds  and  a  fresher  breeze, 
winds  and  young  waves.  It  was  a  scene  of  rare 
majesty :  the  mountains  around  are  magnificent,  and 
many  of  the  cliffs  are  scarped  and  inaccessible.  The 
shadows  and  the  gleamy  green  ;  the  few  black  cha- 
lets,  and  the  white  chapels ;  the  mountaineer's  long 
cry,  and  the  tinkling  bells, — who  shall  describe  these 
things  ?    None  can — no,  not  the  very  finest  of  our 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND.  91 

poets  :  his  choicest  words,  his  finest  melody  of  verse 
must  fail  him.  There  are  objects  in  such  scenery, 
and  hues  on  them,  for  which  language  has  no  names; 
and  there  is  a  hallowed  music  "i'  the  air,"  breath- 
ing over  all,  which  the  mind's  ear  alone  is  formed 
to  listen  to,  and  having  listened  to,  does  for  a  while 
deem  lightly  of  a  mortal's  harping. 

You  pass  a  chapel  dedicated  to  Tell,  at  the  rocky 
point,  where,  in  the  storm,  he  leaped  upon  the 
shore  ;  and,  after  you  land,  as  you  go  up  into  Altorf, 
you  pass  the  famed  meadow,  the  Rutlin. 

Altorf  is  a  town  as  dull,  as  blank,  as  still  as  a  con- 
vent wail.  In  the  silent  market-place  is  a  tall  un- 
sightly tower  :  it  would  offend  your  eye,  did  not  an 
inscription  remind  you,  that  here  stood  the  far-famed 
tree  ;  here  the  boy  leaned,  the  apple  on  his  young 
head;  here  sat  the  tyrant  Gessler;  here  stood  the 
father,  Tell.  The  shout  that  followed  on  his  God- 
guided  arrow  was  echoed  back  from  the  mountains 
instantly.  They  are  so  close,  you  almost  fancy  the 
outstretched  arm  could  touch  them  ;  as  you  raise 
your  eyes,  they  seem  looking  down  into  the  square. 
They  are  of  uncommon  majesty.  To  think  that 
man  should  dare  to  play  the  tyrant  so  near  them  ! 

The  inn  at  Altorf  is  not  without  interest :  there  is 
an  old  Italianised  waiter,  and  a  fine  old  woman,  who 
waits  also,  and  is  quite  a  portrait.  She  had  a  black 
crape  head-dress,  having  the  true  Schweitz  or  Achil- 
les crest,  and  her  grey  hairs  all  drawn  up,  and  back 
from  her  forehead  and  temples,  tight,  smooth,  and 
cleanly.  Her  face  was  full,  round,  and  rosy  as  the 
clean-shaved,  well-fed  canon  of  a  cathedral ;  and,  in 
truth,  but  for  the  corset  and  petticoat,  she  did  great- 
ly resemble  such  canons  as  you  find  a  few  of,  in  all 
countries  where  there  are  fair  complexions. 


03  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

Some  old  pictures  hang  upon  the  walls  here, 
which  have  found  their  way  from  some  plundered 
mansion  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alps  long  ago  ; 
and  you  see  the  cut  melon,  the  clustered  grapes, 
the  broken  pomegranate,  the  wine  in  its  flask,  the 
thin  glasses,  the  ices,  and  the  horn-spoons  for  them, 
— just  as  they  gave,  and  give,  and  will  for  ever  give 
them  in  Italy,  the  indolent  and  unchanging. 

We  proceeded,  on  the  following  morning,  up  the 
valley  of  the  Reuss.  It  is  a  most  grand,  soul-satis- 
fying scene.  We  took  refreshment  in  a  true  cottage- 
inn,  with  panelled  chamber  and  painted  crucifix,  and 
on  again  through  this  grand  valley.  There  is  one 
vast  mountain,  with  a  naked  rocky  head,  which,  go 
on  as  far  as  you  may,  seems  ever  close  above  you, 
in  stern  repose  ;  as  though,  like  the  unclosing  eye 
of  the  invisible  Creator,  it  watched  you  in  your 
passage.  The  torrent  of  the  Reuss  talks  wildly  all 
the  way.  The  only  part  of  this  valley  which,  fine 
as  it  is,  at  all  disappointed  me,  was  the  Pont  du 
Diable  :  the  much-exaggerated  account  of  its  sublime 
beauties,  or  terrors  rather,  is  not  at  all  borne  out 
by  fact ;  there  are  finer  spots  along  the  vale.  The 
rocks  on  the  road,  above  the  Pont  du  Diable,  have, 
indeed,  a  fine,  wild  character.  When  you  pass 
through  the  pierced  gallery  in  these  rocks,  and  come 
out  upon  the  still,  tranquil  vale  of  \ndermatt,  the 
effect  is  astonishing  :  there  are  no  trees,  but  there 
is  a  lovely  verdure  on  the  earth.  The  loneliness, 
however,  of  this  spot  is  its  greatest  charm :  the 
walk  through  it  is  the  realising  a  page  of  some  old 
fairy  tale.  We  went  forward  to  the  village  of  Hos- 
pital to  sleep  :  it  was  already  dark  when  we  arrived. 
In  the  guest-chamber  we  found  a  Hanoverian  officer 
and  an  English  gentleman  at  supper,  whom  we  had 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

before  seen  at  Zurich,  and  crossed  at  other  points  of 
our  route.  My  companion,  who  designed  turning 
back  into  Switzerland  from  this  place,  and  revelling 
among  the  strange  beauties  of  the  vale  of  Chamou- 
ny,  and  the  Mer  de  Glace,  employed  the  next  day 
in  a  short  excursion  to  the  hospice  of  St.  Gothard. 
As  I  designed  crossing  into  Italy  the  day  after,  I,  on 
the  morrow,  hired  a  horse  and  guide,  and  visited  the 
glacier  of  the  Rhone.  Fortunate  and  satisfied  as  I 
had  been  in  the  society  of  the  gentleman  who  had 
lately  been  my  companion,  I  quietly  rejoiced  in  my 
spirit  as  I  found  myself  riding  alone  up  a  solitary 
mountain  path,  which,  after  quitting  Hospital,  is  only 
broken  by  a  small  hospice  and  a  few  goatherds'  huts. 
It  takes  four  hours  to  ascend  the  Furca :  it  is  a  long 
sloping  vale,  between  two  ridges  of  lofty  mountains, 
through  which  the  track  lies.  The  Reuss,  here  a 
small  summer  stream,  at  the  bottom  of  a  deeper  and 
more  rugged  winter  bed,  flows  past  you  nearly  all 
the  way.  Its  course  is  slightly  impeded,  here  and 
there,  by  rock  and  stone ;  but  this  gives  it  great 
life,  and  it  tumbles  and  babbles  cheerfully  down  the 
mountain  vale,  like  a  happy  boy  rolling  and  making 
holiday  on  a  green  hill-side.  In  parts,  the  bridle- 
path is  very  narrow,  and  passes  along  the  side  of  a 
hill  not  exactly  precipitous,  but  so  steep  as  certainly 
to  be  dangerous,  although  it  has  nowhere  that  terri- 
fic appearance  which  some  tourists  have  spoken  of. 
Still,  a  slip  could  not  easily  be  recovered,  and  both 
horse  and  rider  might  fall  into  the  stream  far  be- 
neath, and  be  seriously  injured,  if  not  destroyed. 
Such  accidents,  however,  are  rare,  and  the  possibi- 
lity of  their  occurrence  was  only  anxiously  suggest- 
ed to  my  mind  by  the  sight  of  a  party,  about  half  a 
league  before  me,  consisting  of  two  English  ladies,  a 


100  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

gentleman,  and  their  guides.  I  had  caught  a  glimpse 
of  my  fair  countrywomen  at  the  small  inn  in  the 
morning,  and  heard  the  sound  of  their  soft  voices ; 
and,  therefore,  though  the  rules  of  travelling  every 
where,  but  more  especially  in  Switzerland,  forbid 
either  the  joining  or  accosting  others,  I  could  not 
help  casting  a  thought  forward  to  them,  as  1  watched 
their  giddy  course.  The  Reuss  is  crossed  twice  on 
those  fine  rude  pass-stones,  which  break  and  give 
such  beauty  to  the  rivuiet  among  these  Alps.  On 
reaching  the  Furca,  I  observed  that  their  guide  took 
them  to  the  height  on  the  left,  where  they  seated 
themselves  to  refresh ;  I  therefore  passed  wide  of 
them,  to  the  right.  At  a  certain  point,  commanding, 
it  is  true,  a  most  glorious  prospect,  and  showing  a 
fine  bed  of  glacier  in  the  distance,  my  guide  stopped 
me,  saying,  that  this  was  the  spot  from  which  tra- 
vellers generally  viewed  the  glacier  of  the  Rhone, 
and  from  whence  they  returned.  This  I  do  not  be- 
lieve ;  for  to  do  so  would  not  be  to  see  the  glacier, 
and  would  be,  moreover,  to  lose  by  far  the  most 
sublime  feature  of  that  scene  of  wonder. 

When  I  stood  upon  the  edge  of  that  vast  and  wide 
bed  of  eternal  snow,  wiped  my  hot  brow  beneath  a 
scorching  sun,  and  gathered  the  flower  of  the  ever- 
green at  my  foot ;  when  I  saw,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
glacier,  the  young  brown  river  issuing  forth  from 
cavernous  mouths  in  a  deep  mass  of  snow;  and  when 
I  looked  up  to  that  ridge,  which  stretches  from  one 
dark  mountain  peak  to  its  dark  fellow,  and  over 
which  this  sea  of  ice  must  once  have  rolled  into  its 
present  bed,  I  was  moved  with  wonder,  as  if  1  had 
seen  a  vision.  The  whole  of  that  rifted  ridge  seem- 
ed but  one  bright  wall  of  pyramid,  and  obelisk,  and 
ppire.  builded  in  white  snow  by  spirits,  the  ministers 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND.  101 

of  Heaven  ;  a  barrier  none  but  glorified  bodies,  light 
as  the  summer  winds,  might  pass,  where  nothing 
polluted  or  defiled  might  hope  to  gain  admittance ; 
a  place  apart  from  our  world,  and  the  portal  of  a 
better. 

As  you  tread  upon  the  glacier,  you  remark  that 
the  snow,  whose  kindred  peaks  shine  from  above 
with  such  a  dazzling  transparent  brightness,  is  be- 
neath your  feet^  in  many  places,  soiled  and  disco- 
loured :  still  it  is  snow  that  fell  white  from  Heaven, 
and  shall  again  haste  from  all  defilement,  and  image 
back  the  sunbeam  from  blue  and  clear  reflecting  wa- 
ters. Ah  !  thus  we  pray  and  hope  that  it  will  be 
with  the  human  soul.  No  man  can  look  upon  these 
scenes,  none  can  tread  this  snow,  which  here  cracks 
to  the  foot,  there  glistens  meltingly  in  the  hot  sun- 
beam, and  is  here  again  broken  by  rude  chasms  and 
clefts,  down  into  whose  beautifully  blue  depths  you 
look  with  trembling, — none  can  do  this,  and  forget 
that  he  has  with  him  a  second  self,  invisible,  spirit- 
ual, immortal. 

As  1  walked  back  by  the  edge  of  the  glacier,  I 
met  the  ladies,  and  the  gentleman  who  attended 
them,  coming  along  the  path  towards  the  GrimseL 
They  dismounted,  and  went  a  few  yards  on  the 
bed  of  the  ice.  After  they  passed  on,  I  went  down 
to  the  spot,  that  1  might  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
woman's  foot-print  in  such  a  scene.  Ah  !  what  wo- 
man is  to  man  ! 

I  re-ascended  the  Furca,  pausing  at  every  step. 
What  a  scene  it  is  !  From  one  of  the  very  loftiest 
ridges  above  me,  I  heard  a  shout  and  a  lau^b.  I 
cannot  tell  how  very  wild  and  fearfu  t  ey  so  ed 
in  that  solitude:  it  was  only  the  cry  o  some  ar- 
mot  hunters,  whom  the  guide  well  ju*ew ;  yei  it 


102  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

shook   and  stirred    me  strangely;  methought  they 
were  laughing  too  near  Heaven. 

I  descended  towards  the  hospice  with  the  sinking 
day;  the  shadows  were  spreading  fast  and  far;  the 
mountain-herds,  and  their  rude  pastors,  creeping  to 
lower  shelter ;  and,  when  1  reached  the  hospice,  the 
capuchin  was  reading  the  vesper-service  to  the  goat- 
herds assembled  in  the  chapel.  I  stood  uncovered 
and  silent  at  the  door,  and  listened  to  the  well-known 
melancholy  murmur  of  that  service.  1  have  seldom 
seen  a  people  of  more  rude  and  cheerless  aspect ; 
they  were  poorly  and  coarsely  clad  ;  the  very  young 
among  them  looked  not  youthful,  and  the  old  looked 
not  as  they  had  ever  known  joy.  1  observed  blear 
eyes,  and  blains,  and  sores  from  cold  winds,  and 
stones,  and  snow.  Such  are  the  mountaineers  of  St. 
Gothard.  I  saw  not  one  man  with  the  light  limb 
and  the  bounding  step  we  so  often  and  so  naturally 
associate  with  the  very  word  mountaineer.  I  went 
into  the  friar's  dwelling,  and  took  a  cup  of  wine  : 
two  young  peasant  girls  of  Andermatt,  relations,  live 
with  him.  They  formed  quite  a  contrast  to  the  po- 
pulation of  the  rude  hamlet,  being  both  of  them 
pretty,  one  remarkably  so.  Lest  I  should  uninten- 
tionally raise  a  smile  at  the  expense  of  the  poor  ca- 
puchin (and  I  am  not  fond  of  capuchins),  I  think  it 
right  to  add,  that  it  was  evident,  to  the  observing 
glance,  their  intercourse  was  of  the  most  innocent 
nature.  He  was  a  man  of  a  certain  age,  painfully 
plain,  and  of  a  sad,  dull,  unintelligent  appearance.  I 
looked  into  his  little  cabin-like  sleeping  cell,  and 
into  his  small,  poor  garden.  For  many  months  of 
the  year  the  inhabitants  of  this  place  are  snowed  in  : 
the  two  fine  faces  near  him  must  then  be  felt  as  bles- 
sings, if  it  were  only  that  they  light  up  a  dwelling* 


GERMAN  SWITZERLAND.  io3 

There  is  a  something  in  a  fine  human  countenance, 
seen  daily  about  you  in  the  common  services  of  life, 
which  does  greatly  gild  existence. 

On  my  return  to  the  inn  at  Hospital,  I  found  my 
companion,  the  Hanoverian  and  his,  who  had  all 
three  been  visiting  the  hospice  of  St.  Gothard,  at  sup- 
per. We  interchanged  our  accounts  of  what  had 
struck  or  delighted  either.  I  here  parted  with  the 
gentleman  who  had  accompanied  me  for  many  days. 
It  is  impossible  for  two  men  to  travel  for  even  so 
short  a  period  together,  and  to  separate,  without 
some  feeling  of  regret,  especially  if  they  have  stood 
side  by  side,  and  gazed  on  such  objects  as  we  had  vi- 
sited together.  Our  sentiments  differed  on  many 
points,  as  we  soon  discovered ;  but  I  must  say,  that  I 
have  rarely  met  a  man  with  whom  1  could  so  happi- 
ly "  agree  to  differ."  I  shall  long  recollect,  with 
pleasure,  my  journey  from  Strasburg  to  the  St.  Go- 
thard, and  my  talented  and  cheerful  companion. 

At  early  dawn  I  was  on  horseback,  ascending  the 
St.  Gothard,  and,  leaving  the  guide  in  charge  of  the 
sumpter  horse  that  carried  my  baggage,  I  rode  for- 
ward alone. 

The  ascent  and  passage  of  this  mountain  are  in- 
conceivably grand.  The  grandeur  of  which  I  speak 
is  dark,  desolate,  terrific  ;  all  is  rock,  granite  rock, 
in  rude  and  mighty  masses,  not  impending  or  threat- 
ening, but  lying  stern  and  still.  The  hue  of  every 
thing  is  iron  ;  the  sight  and  the  sound  of  water  alone 
remind  you  of  the  mercy  of  that  Being  who  created 
the  awful  wilderness  around. 

I  overtook  a  boy  driving  a  laden  mule  alone  :  I 
talked  with  him  awhile  ;  but  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
crossing  the  mountain  thus,  and  partook  its  charac- 
ter,—was  grave  and  dull,  as  one  habituallv  oppress- 
8 


104  GERMAN    SWITZERLAND. 

ed  by  solitude  and  silence  :  himself  and  mule  were 
the  only  living  things  I  passed  between  the  village 
of  Hospital  and  the  hospice.  The  sun  did  not  shine  : 
thin  white  vapours  flitted  about  the  mountain,  now 
veiling,  and  now  displaying  to  greater  advantage 
some  of  the  loftier  and  ruder  points  of  those  rocks 
which  surround  the  wild  valley  of  the  lake,  at  the 
summit  of  the  passage  :  now  they  enveloped,  now 
chilled  me  ;  now  sailed  slow  away,  and  left  me  in 
clear  and  open  air,  a  near  gazer,  and  close  watcher 
of  the  cloud.  I  shouted  long  at  the  hospice  before  I 
could  make  any  one  hear  me.  A  few  goats  were 
standing  in,  or  straying  about  the  yard,  with  udders 
full,  as  if  waiting  for  the  milking  hour;  and,  at  last, 
a  miserable-looking  herd-boy  crept  shivering  round 
the  gable  of  an  outhouse,  and  came  towards  me  ; 
while,  almost  at  the  same  moment,  the  keeper  of 
the  hospice  slowly  opened  the  door,  reproaching  me 
for  being  there  before  the  usual  hour  of  the  mail. 
The  post-bag,  it  appears,  was  on  the  solitary  mule  I 
had  passed  with  the  boy,  the  courier  himself  being 
somewhat  behind  it  again.  So  much  for  the  securi- 
ty of  the  communication  over  the  St.  Gothard.  The 
keeper  of  this  wretched  hospice  was  an  old  soldier, 
spoke  French,  Italian,  Spanish,  and  was  not  unintelli- 
gent. Such  a  man  would  hardfy  accept  this  post,  if 
there  was  not  some  sure  mode  of  making  money,  be- 
sides tending  a  few  goats,  and  selling  a  few  glasses 
of  aqua  ardente.  I  exchanged  a  few  words  with  him 
about  old  times,  took  a  cup  of  warm  milk,  to  which, 
after  the  camp  fashion,  he  added  a  glass  of  Cognac, 
from  the  bottle  reserved  for  first-class  customers, 
and,  leaving  here  my  horse  to  follow  with  the  guide, 
I  walked  forward  on  foot. 

There  is  vet  another  association  connected  with 


GERMAN   SWITZERLAND.  105 

this  cold  wild  scene,  and  it  is  one  which,  received 
into  the  mind  as  you  stand  alone,  in  the  midst  of  so 
many  rude  yet  sublime  wonders,  makes  man  start  to 
think  of, — war  has  been  here,  up  here,  in  these  high, 
dark  solitudes.  The  stubborn  Russian  and  the  "  fiery 
Frank"  had  a  smart  action  here,  during  the  cam- 
paign of  1798  or  1799  ;  and  this  rude  place  of  repose 
for  pilgrim  and  muleteer  was  taken  and  retaken,  in 
combats  of  musketry  and  the  bayonet.  I  know  not 
how  it  is,  or  why  I  should  so  feel  it ;  but  uniforms, 
and  words  of  command,  and  the  spitting  fire  of  regu- 
lar sharp-shooters,  seem  quite  out  of  character  with 
the  scene.  Man  feels  himself  a  pigmy  in  these 
places  :  horses  and  horsemen,  stretched  dead  on  the 
wide  battle-plain  ;  foot-soldiers  lying  slain  on  all  the 
green  knolls  around ;  and  yagers  skirmishing  with 
their  rifles  among  the  bushes  and  thickets,  are  things 
common  and  in  keeping  with  fields  of  warfare ;  but 
feeble  creatures  crawling  about,  round  and  among 
these  mighty  fragments  of  the  day  of  Chaos,  this 
stony  girdle  of  our  world,  and  with  distant  and  pitiful 
shots  levelling  their  fellows,  and  bodies  lying  small 
near  huge  masses  of  dark  stone  ! — it  sounds  too  dar- 
ing, and  human  combatants,  with  all  their  swelling, 
appear  too  little  in  such  places, — I  mean  numbered 
and  regimented  combatants,  and  hired  legions.  For 
the  solitary  struggle  of  man  and  some  one  deadly  as- 
sailant, for  such  peril  as  knight  or  pilgrim,  as  female 
innocent,  or  as  hunted  martyr  might  encounter,  the 
scene  is  fitted  by  that  very  sublimity  which  makes 
the  regular  operations  of  modern  warfare  sink  into  a 
tame  insignificance  in  such  a  theatre. 

The  circumstance  of  St.  Gothard  being,  to  this 
day,  impassable  for  carriages,  leaves  it  in  possession 
of  all  that  character  of  romance  which  the  musing 


106  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

mind  may  have  been  wont,  from  early  age,  to  attach 
to  a  passage  of  the  Alps. 

As  soon  as  you  begin  to  descend,  all  that  was  na- 
ked and  stony  disappears  ;  it  is  left  behind  ;  beauti- 
ful prospects  open  on  you;  the  vale,  into  which  you 
are  moving  down,  is  green  ;  there  are  villages  and 
foliage  ;  trees  climb  all  the  hills,  and,  on  the  very 
summits,  screens  and  patches  of  black  fir  lie  disposed 
in  the  most  picturesque  forms,  and  contrast  protect- 
ingly  with  'the  sheltered  pastures  beneath  them. 
The  sun  broke  out,  and  lighted  all  things.  "  Buon 
giorno"  said  a  man  coming  up  with  the  broad  hat, 
the  round  blue  jacket,  the  blue  breeches,  the  white 
stockings,  and  the  large  shoe-buckles  of  the  Italian 
peasant.  You  are  in  Italy,  the  very  sound  of  the 
Tessino  would  tell  you  so,  it  hurries  so  gladly  on, 
leaps  so  rejoicingly  from  rock  to  rock,  and  whitens, 
and  foams,  and  sparkles  so  at  its  many  beautiful  falls. 

The  small  inn  at  Airolo  is  kept  by  a  most  civil 
landlord :  the  chamber  where  I  washed,  the  beds, 
the  furniture,  all  Italian  in  fashion  ;  while  the  coun- 
tenances of  two  females  of  his  family  more  particu- 
larly and  more  pleasingly  announce  Italia,  the  sun- 
ny and  the  soft,  the  land  of  warm  tints  and  fine  fea- 
tures. I  travelled  from  hence,  by  what  is  called  the 
post,  to  Bellinzone.  The  vehicle  is  indescribable  ; 
it  must  have  stood  for  upwards  of  a  century,  undis- 
turbed, in  some  old  remise,  and  have  been  lately  pur- 
chased by  our  speculating  host  for  a  song,  drawn 
forth,  and  advanced  or  degraded  to  the  service  of 
carrying  a  mail  and  passengers.  The  old  faded  vel- 
veteen linings,  the  heavy  panels,  the  clumsy  springs, 
were  of  a  date  now  forgotten.  The  driver,  indeed, 
was  in  keeping  with  it ;  he  was  a  peasant  in  old  pea- 
sant §rarb,  and  the  buckles  must  have  been  made,  I 


GERMAN    SWITZERLAND.  107 

should  think,  about  the  time  when  the  carriage  was 
built. 

The  whole  road  from  Airolo  to  Bellinzone  is  de- 
light, delight:  at  every  turn  some  new  romantic 
feature,  or  some  of  a  softer  loveliness.  Fontana, 
Faido,  and  Giornorco,  are  passed  in  succession.  You 
begin  with  pasturage.  You  pass  down  into  gardens 
of  fruit,  orchards,  and  vineyards,  and  on  to  green 
fields,  and  wider  meads  :  beauty  and  brightness  keep 
the  travellers  heart  glad,  and  every  thing  looks 
light  and  cheerful.  I  had  no  companion  but  my 
driver,  but  he  was  lively  and  companionable  :  we 
changed  drivers  at  Faido.  The  second  was  a  little 
merry  fellow,  who  sung,  or  rather  hummed  all  the 
way  admirably  well,  giving  every  bar  and  turn.  I 
looked,  I  suppose,  as  I  felt,  contented.  "  Vi place?'1 
said  the  little  man,  and  then  on  he  went  again  like 
a  bird.  u  That  is  a  Spanish  air,"  I  said  ;  "  where 
did  you  get  it  ?" — tC  Non  so." — "  Give  it  again." — 
"  Per  uhbidir  la  ;"  and  he  sung  to  me  to  my  heart's 
ease.  At  last,  when  arrived  at  the  end  of  his  stage, 
he  jumped  off  his  seat,  took  a  young  infant  from  the 
arms  of  a  fine  young  woman,  with  a  pretty  and  smil- 
ing face,  and  was  so  fully  occupied  in  kissing  and 
playing  with  it,  that,  if  1  had  not  called  him,  he 
would  have  suffered  the  relay  to  drive  on  without 
even  asking  for  his  buona  mano.  He  told  me,  cheer- 
fully, as  I  tipped  him,  that  he  was  a  young  married 
man,  and  this  his  first  child ;  wished  me  a  happy 
journey ;  and  there,  as  I  looked  back,  I  saw  him 
stand  at  his  cottage-door,  fondling  his  young  child, 
and  chatting  with  its  pretty  mother.  Well,  there 
certainly  is  a  great  deal  of  happiness  in  the  world, 
that  tyranny  and  misgovernment,  by  God's  blessing, 
never  reach :  here,  however,  in  these   peaceable 


1UB  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

times,  they  boast  of  freedom  ;  for  this  is  a  canton  of 
Switzerland.  The  view  of  Bellinzone,  with  the 
three  castellated  hills  that  rise  above  the  city,  from 
whence  walls  descend  to  her  three  gates, giving  her 
the  power  of  shutting  and  guarding  the  valley  on 
every  side,  is  very  noble  and  striking. 

According  to  my  plan,  I  went  forward  to  Lugano. 
I  got  a  room  at  the  alb  ergo ,  commanding  so  delight- 
ful a  prospect,  I  was  so  captivated  with  the  small 
lake,  and  even  in  the  town  itself  the  aspect  of  so 
many  things  struck  and  pleased  me,  that  I  lingered 
there  three  days.  The  inhabitants  of  Lugano  are 
said  to  be  industrious,  and  the  siik  of  this  place  is  in 
high  repute.  But,  in  truth,  the  people  do  not  look 
very  industrious,  and  as  almost  all  trades  ply  their 
work  either  in  the  open  air  or  in  such  open  shops 
as  the  passing  eye  may  gaze  in  upon,  I  should  call 
them  indolent.  Although  a  small  town,  I  never  saw 
any  other  (save  Naples)  where  they  seem  so  studi- 
ously to  spare  themselves  the  trouble  of  keeping 
house,  and  preparing  food  in  their  families.  The 
town  is  full  of  cooks'  shops,  whence  ail  are  content 
to  be  supplied:  a  way  of  life  that  begets  a  disregard 
of  comfort,  but,  at  the  same  time,  gives  a  kind  of 
cheerful  carelessness.  To  the  passing  observer, 
society,  in  this  state,  (however  he  may  regret  that 
things  are  so,)  gives  a  certain  pleasure  ;  for  he  sees 
it  well,  and  near,  and  fully.  If  we  stand  for  hours 
near  a  glass  bee-hive,  with  a  pleased  interest  and 
lively  curiosity,  how  much  higher  the  gratification, 
in  despite  of  the  pain  it  brings  with  it,  to  stand 
among  our  fellow-men,  our  proper  study,  and  to  see 
how  they  live,  and  move,  and  have  their  being. 
Lugano  is  Swiss,  and  free  by  its  constitution ;  but 
Lugano  is  enslaved  by  habits,  by  climate  and  beauty. 


GERMAN  SWITZERLAND.  109 

oil  and  wine,  and,  above  all,  by  the  spirit  of  her  re- 
ligion. The  place  is  overstocked  with  convents  and 
churches, — and  the  tinkle  of  the  small  bell  is  per- 
petual. The  view  over  the  lake,  from  the  terrace 
before  the  mother-church,  is  enchanting ;  and  for 
views,  generally,  turn  where  you  will  at  Lugano, 
they  are  lovely.  The  hours  1  passed  upon  the  lake 
were  such  as  on  a  lake  gliding  in  a  boat  may  be 
passed  in  any  land,  in  summer  seasons,  where  lakes 
are  to  be  found.  But,  as  Lugano  is  not  much  visit- 
ed, I  name  it,  assuring  any,  who  may  follow  in  my 
track,  that  the  form  and  features  of  it,  and  its  roman- 
tic shores,  merit  a  wider  fame  than  the  vicinity  of 
the  larger  lakes,  and  the  reports  of  travellers  have 
allowed  to  it.  I  took  boat  on  the  day  of  my  depart- 
ure to  the  small  village  of  Porlezza,  at  the  head  of 
the  lake  ;  hence  1  crossed  to  that  of  Como  on  foot. 
In  the  small  cottage  albergo  of  Porlezza,  where  I  re- 
freshed before  1  started,  they  gave  me  bread  whiter 
than  milk,  excellent  wine,  and  abundance  of  luscious 
figs  and  grapes  :  of  these  1  made  the  boatmen  par- 
take, as  also  a  ragged  boy  that  had  worked  his  short 
passage  over  at  an  oar.  In  a  country  where  nature 
bountifully  provides  such  luxuries,  and  where  the 
poor,  amid  their  rags  and  poverty,  do  yet  so  often 
partake  of  them,  it  is  surprising  to  see,  at  the  chance 
occasion,  the  easy  courtesy  of  their  manner  with 
those  to  whom,  at  other  times,  they  are  so  slavishly 
deferential.  They  take,  and  eat  thankfully  and 
cheerfully,  and  seem  to  feel  a  sort  of  pride  that  the 
traveller  should  so  like  and  praise  the  produce  of 
their  country.  It  is  about  six  miles  from  Porlezza 
to  Cadenobbio  :  a  guide  carried  my  valise. 

The  elevated  vale,  through  which  the  road  lies, 
Is  beautiful    When  the  traveller  arrives  by  the 


110  GERMAN   SWITZERLAND. 

winding  footpath,  along  which  he  is  conducted  on 
the  height  above  Cadenobbio,  and  looks  down  upon 
the  bosom  of  the  lake  of  Como,  he  will  assuredly 
send  forward  his  guide,  and  throw  himself  on  the 
ground,  and  long  refuse  to  be  hurried,  even  by  him- 
self, from  such  a  feast  of  the  soul  !  The  glorious 
river-like  form  of  this  lake  ;  the  mountain  shores 
towards  the  head,  round  which  it  sweeps,  as  a  broad 
majestic  river  would  ;  the  towns,  the  villages,  the 
little  bays  and  inlets  on  its  smiling  shores  ;  the  beau- 
tiful division  of  its  two  arms  immediately  beneath 
you;  the  glittering  water,  and  the  white  sails  that 
play  upon  it,  fill  full  the  gaze,  and  make  the  heart 
heave  quick.  When  I  descended,  I  saw  the  land- 
lord of  the  inn  coming  to  meet  me.  He  talked  Eng- 
lish a  little,  and  I  found  had  begun  life  as  one  of 
those  itinerant  venders  of  prints,  maps,  weather 
and  spy  glasses  ;  who  shiver  through  a  few  English 
winters  for  the  sake  of  a  purse,  that  may  enable  them 
to  sit  down  under  the  shadow  of  their  own  vines,  in 
this  delightful  region  for  the  rest  of  life.  There 
was  little  romantic  in  the  appearance,  or  manner,  or 
talk  of  my  good  host,  but  it  was  evident  that  his  lo- 
cal attachments  were  strong,  and  the  beauties  of  his 
native  country  dear  in  his  estimation.  I  found  his 
house  clean,  his  fare  good,  and  his  charges  reasona- 
ble ;  and  had  all  three  been  the  reverse,  the  pros- 
pect from  my  chamber-window  would  have  abun- 
dantly consoled  me. 

I  took  a  boat  in  the  morning  to  Como,  visiting  the 
show  villas,  and  loitering  for  some  time  in  the  cool 
and  shady  villa  Pliniana,  concerning  which  so  much 
has  been  written. 

On  my  arrival  at  Como  I  immediately  took  a 
charabanc*  and  crossed  bv  a  most  romantic  and  beau- 


BERGAMO.  Ill 

tiful  road  to  Lecco,  a  small  town,  situated  at  the 
head  of  the  second  branch  of  the  lake.  The  follow- 
ing day  was  the  market  at  Lecco,  and  the  place  was 
filled  with  peasant  figures  of  the  true  Italian  stamp, 
affording  numberless  studies  to  the  painter.  From 
hence  1  took  a  carriage  to  Bergamo,  a  large  and 
busy  city.  The  great  fair  was  just  over,  and  from 
my  own  observation,  and  the  enquiries  I  made,  I 
should  think  a  person  desirous  of  studying  Italian 
character  would  do  well  to  make  a  point  of  visiting 
Bergamo  during  the  fair.  This  lasts  for  three  weeks, 
is  always  very  numerously  attended,  and  exhibits  a 
great  variety  of  character  among  the  peasants  of 
different  provinces  who  frequent  it, — peasants  who 
preserve  unalterably  the  dress  and  the  customs  of 
their  fathers.  Moreover,  Bergamo  is  the  true  birth- 
place of  Harlequin.  We  have  all,  I  suppose,  liked 
Harlequin  in  our  day,  have  most  of  us  laughed  our- 
selves into  innocent  merriment  at  Mother  Goose,  and 
still  remember  with  wonder  that  rolling  head  of 
Bologna's  which  scarce  seemed  a  part  of  the  man, 
and  Grimaldi,  of  memory  immortal  in  the  annais  of 
drollery.  I  saw  here,  in  Bergamo,  a  man,  a  Falstaff, 
or  rather,  not  the  fat  man  of  a  play,  but  of  a  pan- 
tomime He  was  the  keeper  (as  should  be)  of  a 
cook's  shop.  His  paunch,  literally,  appeared  to 
move  before  him.  The  fall  from  his  breast  to  his 
stomach  was  so  made  that  you  might  have  opened 
and  spread  a  huge  tavern  ledger  upon  it,  and  there 
it  would  have  lain  as  safe  bedded  as  on  a  church 
eagle  ; — his  face  shone,  and  his  jowls  were  dewlaps  ; 
— a  white  nightcap  and  apron  he  wore,  and  I  should 
have  deemed  him  a  mask  dressed  for  a  harlequinade, 
if  I  had  not  stood  for  a  minute  of  wonder  close  to 
him,     I  have  observed  of  italv,  that  land  of  hand- 


1 12  BRESCIA. 

some  features,  that  her  ugly,  deformed,  or  corpulent 
men,  are  monstrosities.  What  noses  you  sometimes 
meet  with  in  Italy, — like  the  nodes  of  a  cork-tree  in 
shape,  and  stained  with  all  hues  of  purple  and  the 
mulberry  ! 

I  went  to  Brescia  the  following  morning  in  com- 
pany with  an  Italian  priest,  a  man  of  wood.  The 
road  lies  through  a  rich  and  fertile  vale.  Brescia 
is  a  city  of  some  interest  to  the  passing  gazer. 
The  walk  round  the  walls  is  pleasant,  and  the  pros- 
pects from  them  on  all  sides  fair,  on  that  of  the  Alps 
line.  The  view  from  the  castle  over  the  glorious 
plain  of  Lombardy  is  one  to  seat  yourself  on  the 
broken  wall  and  thoroughly  enjoy.  The  plain  is 
wooded  as  though  it  were  a  forest,  and  yet  you  know 
it  to  be  a  watered  garden.  1  saw  a  party  of  young 
men  here  near  the  ramparts  playing  at  the  ballone, 
and  all  the  slope  above  them  was  covered  with 
spectators  and  crowned  with  idle  groups  of  Austrian 
soldiers.  The  players  wore  frilled  shirts  of  the 
finest  texture,  ruffles  also,  and  coloured  ribbons  dis- 
posed ornamentally  on  their  sleeves  and  at  the  drawer 
knees.  The  whole  scene  was  a  picture,  and  greatly 
enlivened  by  the  interest  which  the  spectators  take 
in  it :  they  shout,  and  laugh,  and  exult,  as  skill  or 
awkwardness  affect  them.  It  is  painful  to  an  English- 
man to  contemplate  the  groups  of  Italian  gentlemen 
who  lounge  away  long  hours  upon  the  chairs  under 
the  awnings  of  the  many  cafes  close  to  the  theatre. 
They  sip  ices,  they  hum,  they  babble  quick  about 
play  or  small  news  ;  they  are  well  enough  dressed, 
well  enough  looking ;  but  their  very  air  tells  you 
plainly  that  the  higher  interests  of  life  neither  attract 
or  stir  them  :  they  are  content  to  exist,  to  be,  and  to 
fre— nothing 


LAKE   OF  GARDA.  113 

I  took  a  carriage  to  a  small  town  on  the  lake  of 
Garda,  and  here  I  hired  a  boat  to  Riva.  The  boat- 
man asked  me  something  enormous.  I  said,  "  My 
dear  feilow,  1  have  not  time  at  present  to  go  through 
the  regular  comedy  of  bargain-making,  therefore 
here  is  what  I  will  give  you,"  naming  less  than  half 
their  demand.  The  men  looked  surprised,  now  at 
me  now  at  each  other,  but  closed  with  my  offer. 
I  went  to  a  cafe  to  take  a  cup  of  coffee  while  they 
were  getting  ready  ;  a  respectable  looking  serjeant 
of  gens-d'armerie  came  in,  and  -bowing  to  me,  said 
that  I  had  made  a  fair  bargain,  and  he  never  saw 
the  trouble  so  usual  in  making  one  so  easily  got  rid 
of.  He  related  the  circumstances  to  those  in  the 
cafe,  who  laughed  heartily  at  the  expression  about 
the  comedy,  and  gave  me  credit  for  thoroughly 
understanding  this  class  of  their  countrymen.  The 
boatmen  proved  hard-working,  honest,  cheerful  fel- 
lows, and  kissed  my  hand  cordially  at  parting,  be- 
cause I  threw  in  a  trifle  more  for  a  long  labo- 
rious row  after  the  wind  fell.  I  gave  a  poor  peasant 
woman  of  Roveredo  a  passage,  and  for  a  small  bit  of 
silver  got  white  bread  and  fruit  enough  for  the 
whole  party.  The  basket  of  fruit  was  quite  a  pic- 
ture, as  we  all  agreed.  These  poor  Italians  have  a 
quick  perception  of  beauty  ;  a  quality  of  the  mind 
which  certainly  gives  great  delight  to  the  possessor, 
but  which,  like  all  earthly  blessings,  is  counterba- 
lanced by  strange  heart-achings,  and  a  very  painful 
corrosive  canker  in  moments  of  privation,  disappoint- 
ment, and  blank  melancholy. 

The  sail  up  this  lake  into  the  very  bosom  of  the 
mountains  is  at  once  lovely  and  grand.     The  cham- 
ber of  the  inn  at  Riva  looks  out  upon  the  lake,  and 
commands  a  noble  view  of  the  magnificent  and  rocky 
eights  which  rise  from  its  borders. 


114  ROVEREDO. 

About  three  years  ago  a  huge  fragment  of  the 
mountain  just  above  Riva  fell,  destroying,  and  lite- 
rally sweeping  into  the  lake  two  cottages.  The 
warning,  though  but  momentary,  was  yet  sufficient 
to  preserve  the  inhabitants,  who  fled  out  naked  in 
the  night,  and  saved  their  lives  : — such  price  is  some- 
times, and  not  unfrequently,  paid  for  dwelling  amid 
the  romantic  scenery  of  the  Alps.  A  bill  at  these 
inns  is  often  diverting,  when  they  charge  the  arti- 
cles separately,  as  they  did  to  me  here.  A  bottle 
of  white  wine,  really  good  and  well  flavoured,  was 
put  down  about  sixpence  ;  a  tough,  uneatable  mor- 
sel of  arrosto  about  two  shillings :  such  proportion 
bears  the  luxury  to  the  necessary  in  their  esti- 
mation. I  was  too  delighted  with  the  room,  the 
scene,  and  the  wine,  to  object  to  paying  eight  times 
the  value  of  the  scrap  of  burnt  veal  they  styled 
arrosto. 

The  scenery  between  Riva  and  Roveredo  is  ex- 
ceedingly wild,  and  the  road  is  very  lonely.  Rove- 
redo  is  rather  a  busy-looking  place,  and  their  prin- 
cipal trade  is  in  silk  All  this  country  brings  back 
to  the  mind  the  early  and  most  honourable  triumphs 
of  Bonaparte  :  here  he  laid  the  foundation  of  his 
fame  and  fortune.  I  remember  that  the  first  picture 
I  ever  saw  of  Napoleon  represented  him  in  a  gene- 
ral's uniform,  at  full  length,  with  the  subscription : 

Cui  laurus  eternos  honores 
Italico  peperit  triumpho. 

A  truth  which  few,  even  of  his  enemies,  have  dis- 
puted, if  the  reference  of  it  be  limited  to  his  exploits 
as  a  general.  The  violence  done  to  property  in 
that  war  must  not  all  be  chargeable  to  his  memory, 
though,  as  he  was  the  commander  of  an  army,  which 


TRENT.  115 

he  was  left  by  the  jealousy  of  the  French  govern- 
ment to  clothe,  pay,  and  feed  as  he  could,  of  cour-e 
the  sufferers  affixed  their  curse  on  him.  It  is  related 
that  as  Bonaparte  was  one  evening  conversing  cour- 
teously with  an  Italian  lady,  she  took  some  flower  or 
trifle  from  his  hand  playfully  :  "  Gli  Italiani,"  said 
the  General,  smiling,  "  sono  tutti  Ladroni" — "  Non 
tutti,  mas  buona  parte"  was  her  ready  and  severe 
retort.  Nevertheless,  in  the  north  of  Italy,  his  name 
is  often  accompanied  by  a  benediction.  It  has  been 
said  of  him,  u  There  was  greatness  in  the  General, 
greatness  in  the  Consul  :  the  Emperor  was  only 
mighty." 

The  bronze  medallion  of  him  as  First  Consul, 
struck  only  for  private  distribution  after  the  battle 
of  Marengo,  as  a  work  of  art,  and  as  a  beautiful 
expressive  head,  exceeds  any  modern  medallion  that 
I  ever  beheld. 

The  route  from  Roveredo  to  Trent  is  narrowly 
walled  in,  and  is  hot,  dusty,  and  very  provoking; 
for  you  can  see  nothing,  although  you  feel  that  if 
the  walls  were  beat  down,  there  would  be  continual 
prospects  of  beauty. 

Trent  is  very  prettily  situated  :  it  is  a  city  of  the 
Tyrol,  but  I  like  not  to  call  it  by  that  nobler  name  : 
it  is  Italian,  true  Italian  ;  moreover,  was  the  seat  of 
the  famous  Council  that  puzzled  and  plagued  the 
world  for  so  many  years. 

There  is  a  picture  of  this  assembly  in  the  Church 
where  the  Council  was  held,  on  a  small  scale,  and 
faded  ;  but  you  may  trace  all  the  costumes  distinctly 
enough — cardinals,  bishops,  abbots,  monks,  and  doc- 
tors, seated  in  dull  array.  How  these  four  or  five 
hundred  luxurious  gentlemen  were  fed,  was  an  idle 
fancy  or  speculation  that  1  could  not  get  out  of  my 
9 


110  TFtEJST. 

silly  head,  all  the  time  of  my  stay  in  this  old  city. 
What  a  market  it  must  have  had !  what  cooks ! 
what  convoys  of  sleek  mules,  laden  with  luxuries  ! 
and  how,  in  their  distant  and  regretted  residences, 
all  the  old  housekeepers  of  these  perplexed  and 
provoked  absentees  must  have  busied  themselves  in 
the  preparations  of  savouries  and  potted  meats,  dried 
fruits,  and  delicate  conserves,  and  in  the  regular 
and  never-failing  dispatch  of  supplies  from  the  well- 
stocked  cellars.  Trent  is,  in  itself,  an  abominably 
stupid  place  ;  but  Fancy,  reverting  to  the  period  of 
which  1  speak,  soon  peoples  it  with  portraits  of  a 
vast  and  amusing  variety. 

Not  a  chamber  of  the  hotel  where  I  lodged  but 
some  crowned  head,  or  princess,  had  slept  in  it: 
their  arms,  and  the  dates  of  their  visits,  were  over 
the  doors.  If,  therefore,  the  traveller  feels  discon- 
tent with  room  or  bed,  he  has*  the  consolation  of 
knowing  that  the  lords  of  palaces  fared  no  better 
at  Trent,  in  thisTespect,  than  himself. 

As  I  left  very  early  in  the  morning  for  Bautzen, 
my  bill  was  brought,  and,  I  conjecture,  prepared  by 
the  waiter.  Every  thing  was  charged  double  :  this 
I  observed,  to  the  vexation,  no  doubt,  but  certainly 
net  to  the  confusion,  of  the  man ;  for  he  received 
the  half  with  the  most  spaniel-like  demeanour,  just 
like  the  celebrated  black-leg,  who  scored  with  notch- 
ed chalk  ;  and,  on  being  told  by  his  pigeon,  of  whom 
he  had,  doubtless,  won  thousands,  u  Why,  you  have 
just  marked  two  instead  of  one,"  replied,  "  Have  I? 
then  I  will  rub  one  out  again."  My  companion  in 
the  carriage  to  Bautzen  was  a  priest  of  the  country, 
altogether  an  Italian,  in  look,  manner,  and  language 
— nothing  of  the  Tyrolese  about  him.  The  road  is 
beautiful  and  romantic ;  the  villages  which  you  pass 


THE  TYROL.  117 

on  the  early  part  of  the  route  bear  marks  of  frequent 
suffering  and  devastation ;  and  the  effects  of  the  me- 
morable campaigns  of  1796,  1797,«are  distinctly  visi- 
ble to  this  day.  It  is  not  until  he  approaches  Baut- 
zen that  I  consider  the  traveller  fairly  in  the  Tyrol. 
This  city  is  situated  on  the  rapid  Eisach,  and  moun- 
tains of  great  majesty  environ  it.  Here  German  is 
the  language  of  the  people  ;  German  is  their  aspect: 
here  the  varieties  of  costume,  which  have,  for  cen- 
turies, marked*  and  distinguished  the  inhabitants  of 
the  different  valleys  in  this  famous  country,  first 
press  upon  his  attention.  Some  of  the  women  here 
wear  a  head-dress,  certainly  not  very  becoming. 
It  is  a  conical  cap,  of  \esy  fine  dressed  wool,  either 
of  a  white  or  black  colour:  it  looks  like  the  softest 
fur  or  down,  is  expensive,  and  an  article  they  take 
great  pride  in  ;  but  to  the  travelled  eye  it  has  a  very 
strange  appearance,  and  seems  a  more  fitting  head- 
gear for  some  Tartar  chief,  galloping  on  his  native 
steppes,  than  for  the  peasant  woman  of  these  moun- 
tain vales.  Others,  however,  of  the  women  wear 
a  black  hat,  small  and  round,  the  crown  high,  and 
nearly  conical,  and  their  long  hair  is  rolled  up  behind 
into  a  glossy  knot,  and  just  shown  under  it.  Others 
wear  broad  green  hats,  either  of  beaver,  or  covered 
with  green  sils,  and  bands  of  broad  ribbon,  of  the 
like  colour,  tasselled  or  fringed  with  gilt  thread. 
Some  plait  their  hair  in  two  long  braids,  others  bind 
it  about  the  head.  Their  corsetts,  their  aprons, 
their  petticoats,  their  stockings,  are  of  various  co- 
lours, rustic  and  coarse,  but  producing  an  effect  most 
pleasing  and  picturesque.  The  men  are  magnificent 
alike  in  costume  and  appeanmce  :  they  are  remark- 
able for  their  fine  make,  and  the  open  fearless 
expression  of  their  countenances.     They  wear  hats, 


Iia  THE   TYROL. 

some  broad,  some  narrow,  some  of  green  beaver, 
some  of  black,  with  green  ribbons,  or  bands  of  black 
velvet,  and  jackets  of  brown,  green,  or  black,  worked 
with  lace,  and  adorned,  at  the  sleeve  and  waist,  by 
frogs  of  red  or  coloured  cloth  Their  waistcoats 
are  commonly  red,  and  all  the  Tyrolese  wear  very 
broad  green  braces  outside  the  waistcoat,  as  also 
broad  belts  of  black  leather  round  the  middle,  on 
which  are  usually  worked  the  initial  letters  of  the 
owner's  name.  Many  of  them  show  the  knee  bare, 
wearing  only  a  half-stocking  from  the  calf  of  the 
leg  to  the  small,  and  put  a  light  shoe,  with  a  long 
quarter,  on  the  naked  foot. 

I  met  groups  of  these  noble-looking  peasants  on 
the  walks,  and  in  the  streets,  and  I  saw  a  large 
assembly  of  them  in  the  cathedral.  I  went  into  a 
burial-ground  adjoining,  where  many  of  both  sexes 
were  scattered  among  the  graves,  kneeling  and  pray- 
ing, some  evidently  with  a  very  deep  and  devout 
abstraction  of  manner.  Near  each  monumental 
cross  is  a  little  vessel  of  holy  water,  as  in  Switzer- 
land :  there  was  also  a  large  bonehouse,  with  skulls 
placed  in  the  manner  before  described,  and  labelled. 
I  observed  a  young  female  praying  sadly  before  it. 
All  the  persons  in  the  ground  were  bare-headed  ; 
all  was  solemn  and  silent ;  and  when  I  looked  up 
and  beyond  the  narrow  bounds  of  this  cemetery, 
my  lifted  eye  encountered,  on  every  side,  mountains 
in  their  brown  repose. 

1  passed  the  evening  at  the  table  d'hote.  We  were 
waited  on  at  table  by  maid-servants ;  but  Bautzen 
being  a  considerable  town,  and  the  inn  a  large  one, 
the  traveller  does  not  yet  see  the  trues  kellerin  of 
the  Tyrol.  The  table  was  full :  opposite  me  sat  a 
talK  well-dressed  man,  looking  rather  genteel  than 


THE  TYROL.  ll'J 

gentleman-iike,  whom,  from  his  conversation  (for 
he  was  in  plain  clothes),  I  soon  discovered  to  be 
an  officer  in  the  Austrian  army  :  he  was  a  native  of 
Trieste.  He  afforded  me  some  amusement,  by  say- 
ing that  he  greatly  desired  a  war  with  England,  as 
it  would  give  him  pleasure  to  fight  against  the 
English  nation,  they  were  so  proud.  I  immediately 
asked  him  where  he  had  formed  that  opinion  of 
them,  and  what  he  knew  of  them  ?  He  said  that 
he  had  been  embarked,  on  one  occasion,  with  some 
troops,  on  board  an  English  line-of-battle  ship,  in  the 
Adriatic,  and  complained  sadly  of  his  treatment. 
By  a  little  cross-examination,  I  found  that  he  had 
been  a  young  lieutenant  at  the  time,  and  thrown 
principally  among  the  midshipmen  ;  that  he  was 
sea-sick  and  wretched,  and,  of  course,  easily  and 
often  irritated.  I  told  him,  that  he  must  not  ex- 
actly judge  of  English  men  from  English  boys,  or  of 
England  from  a  vessel's  crew  ;  that  our  youth  went 
to  sea  at  a  very  early  age,  and  were  early  taught  to 
hold  the  skill  and  prowess  of  all  enemies  inferior  to 
their  own  ;  that  their  rude  and  manly  education  on 
a  boisterous  element,  and  this  ever-present  persua- 
sion, begat  in  them  that  spirit  of  enterprise  and  dar- 
ing, which  had  obtained  for  our  navy  the  renown  it 
long  had,  and,  I  hoped  and  believed,  long  would 
enjoy  ;  that  1  should  be  sorry  to  see  them  alter,  but 
that  he  would  find  the  manners  of  our  country,  and 
even  of  our  camps,  somewhat  different ;  that  if  Fate 
ever  should  oppose  him  to  British  soldiers,  he  would 
not  be  disappointed  of  adversaries,  alike  worthy  and 
proud  to  claim  kindred  with  British  sailors  ;  and  that 
as  I  concluded  the  object  of  his  desire  was  the  natu- 
ral and  noble  ambition  to  encounter  gallant  enemies, 
the  day  might  yet  come,  and  the  wish  he  had  here 


120  THE   TYROL. 

expressed  be  remembered.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
smile  that  passed  across  the  broad  and  bronzed  face 
of  a  stout  Bavarian  officer,  or  the  gratified  look  he 
gave  me,  and  all  that  it  seemed  to  express.  This 
man  looked  worthy  to  head  a  squadron  of  heavy 
horse,  and  such  a  one  as  would  not  turn  back  in  the 
melee.  It  would  not  have  done  in  that  place  to  have 
touched  on  the  relations  in  which  Bavaria  had  stood 
to  France  ;  but  I  doubt  not  this  Bavarian  had  served 
with  the  French  army,  and  had,  perhaps,  been  op- 
posed, at  some  period  of  the  long  war,  to  the  British. 
The  Austrian,  who  felt  that  he  had  volunteered 
playing  "  bavard,"  looked  silly,  and  acknowledging 
that  he  was  not  altogether  in  a  state  to  form  a  cor- 
rect judgment  of  any  thing  while  at  sea,  sunk  into 
silence,  and  soon  became  as  civil  as  he  had  shown 
inclination  to  be  rude. 

I  journeyed. from  Bautzen  to  Brixen,  in  company 
with  a  Bavarian  merchant,  and  his  son,  a  fine  school- 
boy. The  road  has  all  those  features  of  romantic 
beauty  which  the  traveller  expects  to  find,  and  can- 
not describe.  At  a  cottage  inn  on  a  hill,  about  mid- 
way, we  stopped  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  There, 
seated  at  a  table  before  the  door,  we  took  wine  and 
fruit,  and  the  eye  wandered  over  scenery  such  as 
the  soul  loves.  A  dusty  wayfaring  man  sat  down  by 
our  side,  and  took  a  tankard  of  beer.  The  tankard 
was  of  fine,  clear,  thick,  heavy  glass,  with  a  bright 
metal  top.  Throughout  Germany  in  general,  espe- 
cially in  Austria,  they  have  abundance  of  excellent 
glass,  and  the  luxury  of  fine  large  well-shaped  tum- 
blers and  wine-glasses  is  common. 

Brixen  is  a  city  beautifully  situated,  among  moun- 
tains, at  the  junction  of  the  rivers  Rienz  and  Eisach. 
It  has  a  cathedral,  a  palace,  and  many  good  houses: 


THE   TYROL.  121 

(he  style  and  fronts  are  Italian.  The  inn  was  not 
very  comfortable,  and  exceedingly  crowded.  I  met 
a  German  gentleman  at  supper,  who  had  just  return- 
ed from  a  ramble  in  the  lateral  vallies  of  the  Tyrol. 
He  was  full  of  delight,  had  been  present  at  some  of 
their  fairs  and  festivities,  had  been  welcomed  and 
made  at  home  by  them,  and  was  enthusiastic  in  his 
praises  of  them.  I  never  met  a  foreigner  who  spoke 
English  with  such  a  happy  fluency,  or  such  a  thorough 
understanding  of  our  tongue.  He  spoke  of  acquaint- 
ances at  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  one  of  whom  was 
personally  known  to  me,  and  the  name  of  another 
most  familiar,  as  an  accomplished  scholar.  He  ap- 
peared to  have  seen  every  thing  in  London  that  tra- 
veller could  see,  and,  with  the  strong  and  permitted 
curiosity  of  an  active  mind,  had  not  omitted  to  dive 
into  the  cellars  of  St.  Giles's,  or  to  visit  the  booths 
of  St.  Bartholomew.  He  told  me  that  these  lateral 
valleys  could  not  be  visited  without  a  thorough  know- 
ledge, not  merely  of  common  German,  but  of  those 
familiar  phrases,  and  that  low  language,  of  cheerful 
festivity,  which  these  liveliest  of  German  peasants 
take  delight  in.  He  pressed  me  to  accompany  him 
to  Munich,  but  I  had  previously  decided  not  to  enter 
Bavaria  farther  than  was  necessary  for  traversing  a 
part  of  that  country  on  my  road  from  Inspruck  to 
Vienna. 

When  I  awoke  in  the  morning  I  found  the  large 
Inn  deserted,  and  myself  left  to  dress,  and  walk 
about  the  long  old  room  adjoining  my  bed-chamber  in 
stillness  and  alone.  This  room  was  hung  with  old 
paintings,  none  good,  but  none  without  interest. 
The  old  German  painters  seem  to  me  to  have  been 
fond  of  such  subjects  as  admitted  the  introduction  of 
thrones  and  gorgeous  dresses,  cloths  of  gold,  bro.- 


•122  THE   TYROL. 

cades,  jewelled  turbans,  and  costly  caparisons,  with 
rich  embossings.  When  such  things  hang  faded  on  a 
wall  before  you,  as  Queen  Esther  before  Ahasuerus, 
as  Belshazzar  at  his  Feast,  Naaman  in  his  Chariot, 
and  such  like  subjects,  you  cannot  choose  but  think. 
After  breakfast  I  procured  an  oid  dusty  caleche, 
with  a  capital  horse  and  a  rustic  driver,  to  Stertzin- 
gen.  Beautiful  is  the  drive,  and  the  small  town  of 
Stertzingen,  for  cleanliness  and  brightness,  and  an 
aspect  all  its  own,  delights  but  defies  description. 
Shame  to  me  that  1  have  lost  the  note  with  the  name 
of  its  none-such  inn.  Though  I  am  never  likely  to 
forget  the  house,  yet  cannot  I  tell  any  one  who  may 
ramble  after  me  whether  it  be  a  Rose,  or  a  Crown, 
or  a  Goldnen  Lion  that  hangs  dangling  before  it. 
Here  was  an  elderly  landlady,  a  pattern  of  kind  hos- 
pitality and  motherly  propriety,  two  fair  daughters, 
clean  and  modest,  and  a  stout  and  trusty  kellerin, 
with  black  petticoat  of  ample  folds,  and  keys  enough, 
in  number  and  size,  for  the  warder  of  a  castle.  Her 
guardianship,  however,  is  not  over  turrets  and  dun- 
geons, but  over  closets  and  cellars,  wines  and  meats, 
fruits  and  preserves,  and  all  household  comforts. 
There  is  no  feature  about  the  inns  of  the  Tyrol 
more  remarkable  than  the  kellerin  :  she  is  a  person- 
age of  the  first  importance  ;  she  makes  all  charges, 
and  receives  all  payments ;  for  which  purpose  she 
wears  a  large  leathern  pocket,  or  purse,  which,  like 
the  tradesman's  till,  is  emptied  each  evening.  She 
is  intrusted  with  all  the  household  stores ;  she  brings 
each  traveller  his  meal,  and  blesses  it ;  she  brings 
him  his  wine-cup,  and  it  is  yet  the  custom,  with 
all  old  Tyrolers,  that  she  should,  at  least,  put  her 
lips  to  it.  She  is  always  addressed  with  kindness; 
u  Mein  kind,"  6t  Mv  child."  is  the  common  phrase  : 


THE  TYROL.  123 

and  it  is  varied,  in  warmth  and  tenderness,  according 
to  accidental  circumstances.  It  is  sometimes  en- 
dearing, as  "  Mein  schones  kind"  "  My  pretty  child  ;" 
"Mein  herzf  "My  heart;"  "Mein  schatz,"  "My 
treasure."  In  general,  however,  although  I  have 
seen  some  of  great  beauty,  the  kellerin  is  a  stout, 
coarse,  active  woman,  with  a  frank  readiness  of  ser- 
vice in  her  manner,  and  a  plain  pride  of  station, — 
the  pride  of  being  trust-worthy. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  these  phrases  are  not  al- 
ways used,  without  some  lightness,  by  youthful  tra- 
vellers; yet  is  there  a  manner  of  employing  them 
ivithout  any  impropriety,  and  the  very  utterance  is 
a  pleasure,  they  beget  so  much  kindliness  and  good 
humour. 

I  was  shown  into  a  room  that  would  have  satisfied 
the  cleanliest  of  Quakers ;  and  the  first  objects  my 
eyes  rested  on  were  some  English  prints,  not  very 
common  ones, — a  series,  with  the  pictured  and  affec- 
ting story  of  Lady  Jane  Grey,  and  one  other,  the 
Tomb  of  fair  Fidele,  and,  beneath,  the  lines,     - 

"  To  fair  Fidele's  grassy  tomb,"  &c.  &c. 

Now,  certainly,  we  do  not  travel  abroad  to  see  En- 
glish prints,  yet  did  1  heartily  bless  the  chance  that 
brought  them  there,  was  happy  in  their  sweet  com- 
pany, and  confident  that  many  a  solitary  English  tra- 
veller had  felt  the  like  throb  of  a  thankful  heart,  as 
he  sat  down  in  this  little  chamber,  the  welcomed 
tenant  of  a  day.  There  was  a  little  garden,  and 
flowers  in  it,  before  the  window.  It  was  a  place  to 
do  nothing  quick  in  ;  the  washing,  the  dressing,  the 
repast,  all  slowly  lingered  over,  and  the  eyes  ever 
straying  to  the  sweet  figure  and  face  of  Ladv  Jane 


124  THE   TYROL. 

Grey,  and  then  on  to  "  Fair  Fidelers  grassy  tomb,'7 
the  lip  and  voice  each  time  engaged,  just  as  we  hum 
over  and  over  the  bars  of  some  old  and  well  loved 
air. 

In  the  evening,  as  1  sat  thinking  after  supper,  I 
heard  voices  as  in  prayer;  and,  looking  out  of  my 
chamber  into  the  large  irregular-shaped  hall,- 1  saw 
a  party  of  peasants  assembled  on  their  knees,  before 
a  large  wooden  crucifix,  and  performing  their  eve- 
ning devotions.  In  the  Tyrol,  if  the  house  is  con- 
sidered a  good  one,  and  the  people  worthy  and  de- 
vout, the  peasants  and  muleteers,  who  lodge  in  the 
outhouses  and  stables,  do  always  use  the  hall,  or 
guest-chamber,  as  a  chapel,  imagining  that  they  con- 
fer and  receive  a  blessing  by  so  doing. 

Stertzingen  was  the  scene  of  one  of  the  greatest 
triumphs  of  the  Tyrolese  over  their  invaders,  in 
1809.  In  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  town 
there  is  a  marshy  flat,  on  the  hills  near  which  they 
most  judiciously  contrived  an  ambuscade  for  the  Ba- 
varian cavalry,  and  completely  defeated  them.  There 
is  so  much  of  the  pride  and  pomp  of  a  regular  army 
about  a  body  of  well-mounted  and  well-appointed 
horse,  that  the  picture  of  such  a  description  of  force 
defeated,  destroyed,  or  led  captive  by  mountain  pea- 
sants, in  the  rude  and  picturesque  garb  in  which  they 
toil  and  hunt,  does  awaken  in  the  fancy  a  very  live- 
ly delight,  and  give  an  honest  pleasure  to  the  heart; 
as  honest,  at  least,  as  we  may  ever  be  permitted  to 
take  in  warfare.  It  was  a  bright  and  memorable 
feature  in  the  rising  of  the  Tyrolese,  that  no  acts  of 
wanton  or  capricious  cruelty,  no  acts  of  savage  or 
vindictive  barbarity,  stained  the  character  of  their 
cause  The  only  persons  who  were  roughly  or  se- 
verely treated  were  such  of  their  own  countrymen 


THE   TYROL.  \%b 

.«s  they  suspected  of  treachery  ;  but,  towards  the 
French  and  Bavarians,  especially  the  latter,  when 
defeated  and  captured,  no  violence  was  shown  be- 
yond that  necessary  to  secure  them  as  prisoners. 
How  glorious  do  things  like  these  tell ! — A  man  for 
a  leader,  of  whom  a  nation  should  say,  "  The  word 
of  Hofer  is  enough  for  us  ;"  "  What  Hofer  says  we 
will  believe  ;•"  "  What  Hofer  bids  we  will  do  ;"  and 
this  a  lowly  man,  honest,  brave,  compassionate,  and 
devout.  There  is  scarce  an  instance  in  history  of  a 
man  with  so  little  ability  effecting  so  much  by  the 
mere  weight  of  personal  character.  The  general 
and  the  politician  closeted  in  Vienna  made  this  noble 
peasant  their  too!  ;  and,  in  fact,  it  was  in  all  the 
trouble  and  intrigue  at  the  close  that  this  plain,  un- 
suspecting, credulous,  and  faithful  man  was  ship- 
wrecked ;  and  (eternal  disgrace  to  the  French  !)  was 
taken,  tried  by  a  military  commission,  found  guilty  of 
being  bold,  and  good,  and  true,  and  put  to  death. 
Such  deaths,  indeed,  are  hallowed,  yet  are  they 
heart-breaking  to  hear  of  and  think  about.  The 
print  of  Andrea  Hofer  is,  of  course,  every  where  : 
he  is  represented  in  a  brown  jacket,  red  waistcoat, 
broad  green  braces,  and  the  letters  A.  H.,  the  simple 
distinction  on  his  body-belt,  when  he  sold  and  bought 
cattle  in  the  fairs,  figures  there,  to  tell  the  name, 
and,  in  the  name,  the  rank  of  that  most  glorious,  be- 
cause most  merciful,  of  patriot  leaders,  who  thus 
walked  among  his  fellow-countrymen,  as  a  simple 
one  of  them,  at  the  time  that  he  commanded,  and 
ostensibly  directed,  ail  the  energies  of  Tyrol  against 
the  Bavarian  and  the  French  armies. 

If  any  of  my  young  readers  should  desire  to  pe- 
ruse an  animated  and  beautiful  sketch  of  this  moun- 
tain war,  |et  them  turn  to  the  "  Edinburgh  Histori- 


126  THE   TYROL. 

cal  Annual  Register"  for  1809  or  1810.  I  Lave  not 
seen  the  chapter  that  treats  of  it  for  sixteen  years. 
I  read  it  in  Portugal,  but  the  glow  of  it  does  in  re- 
membrance warm  me  still. 

The  road  between  Stertzingen  and  Inspruck  tra- 
verses for  many  miles  the  lofty  Brenner.  Near  the 
summit  is  a  small  house  of  call ;  and  here  I  saw  a 
perfect  picture  of  the  mountain  kellerin,  with  black 
and  glossy  hair,  a  brown  cheek,  a  bright  eye,  and 
teeth  of  a  dazzling  whiteness.  At  Steinach,  where 
I  dined,  was  another  of  coarse  aspect,  but  kind  and 
gentle  in  her  service.  These  women,  to  the  eye  of 
any  traveller  who  has  a  something  of  the  painter's 
perceptions  and  of  the  poet's  feelings,  form  a  very 
interesting  feature,  and  they  might  be  woven  into 
the  tale  of  the  novelist  with  strong  effect. 

hjspruck,  the  capital  of  the  Tyrol,  lies  in  a  val- 
ley watered  by  the  Inn,  and  immediately  at  the  foot 
of  a  mountain  ridge  which  rises  above  it  like  a 
mighty  wall  in  barren  and  precipitous  magnificence. 
You  pass  the  Schonberg  and  descend  to  it  by  a  wind- 
ing road  that  presents,  at  every  turn,  a  prospect  of 
some  striking  and  picturesque  beauty.  I  arrived 
late  in  the  evening,  and  was  put  into  a  large  cham- 
ber, where  by  portraits,  arms,  inscriptions,  &c,  I 
found  many  crowned  heads  and  noble  persons  had 
at  various  times  been  lodged.  I  requested  and  ob- 
tained with  difficulty  on  the  morrow  a  smaller  one. 
The  inn-keeper  here,  who  is  a  jolly  old  man,  and 
was  once  courier  to  the  duke  of  Cumberland,  is  fond 
of  making  kings  of  such  travelling  Englishmen  as 
are  gratified  by  the  folly,  while  for  the  amusement 
of  his  German  guests  he  can  sing,  with  the  most 
comic  effect, 

«  The  dueks  and  the  geese  they  do  swim  over." 


THE   TYROL.  121 

I  encored  him  in  it,  and  wished  Matthews  at  table  to 
Hk  the  man  and  his  manner  for  wider  amusement. 
I  was  made  exceedingly  comfortable  at  this  hotel, 
and  dined  every  day  during  my  stay  with  a  small 
party  of  superior  officers  and  private  gentlemen, 
whose  manners  and  conversation  were  most  pleasing, 
and  where,  contrary  to  the  usual  custom,  the  host  did 
not  appear  at  table.  It  was  at  a  supper  the  night 
before  I  went  away  that  I  heard  the  old  man  sing, 
and  that  he  showed  me  all  the  medals  of  Hofer. 

The  first  thing  which  I  visited  in  Inspruck,  and 
the  object  which  I  could  not  tire  of  gazing  on  after 
repeated  visits,  is  the  grand  cenotaph  in  the  church 
of  the  Franciscans,  to  the  memory  of  Maximilian 
the  Emperor. 

The  mausoleum  itself  would  require,  if  I  attempt- 
ed it  at  all,  a  very  minute  description,  and  of  a  na- 
ture that  would  be  tedious  to  the  reader,  without 
conveying  the  general  effect  to  his  mind.  It  is  rais- 
ed on  three  steps  of  veined  marble,  on  the  highest  of 
which  there  is  a  finely  executed  bordering  in  bronze 
of  arms  and  trophies.  In  bronze,  Maximilian,  robed 
as  an  emperor,  kneels  suppliant  on  his  tomb ;  on  the 
sides,  in  tablets  of  white  Carrara  marble,  each  of 
which  is  two  feet  wide  by  one  and  a  half  in  height,  are 
represented,  in  bas  relief,  the  most  remarkable  ac- 
tions of  his  life.  The  sculpture  is  exquisite,  and  all 
the  scenes  are  represented  with  a  fidelity  at  once 
minute  and  animated.  But  the  charm  and  the  magic 
of  this  monument  arise  from  the  remarkable  circum- 
stance of  its  being  surrounded  by  a  stern  and  silent 
company  of  colossal  statues*  in  bronze.  The  figures 
are  male  and  female,  persons  of  renown  and   royal 

*  That  is,  somewhat  larger  than  life. 
10 


128  THE   TYROL. 

birth :  many  of  the  house  of  Austria  and  in  the  an- 
cestral  line  of  Maximilian,  and  others,  to  the  stran- 
ger's eye,  of  a  deeper  and  more  attaching  interest. 
There  is  "  Gottfried  von  Bouillon,  Konig  v,  Irusalem" 
in  armour,  with  the  cross  on  his  breast-plate,  and  the 
crown  of  thorns  upon  his  cap  of  steel.  There  is 
Theodoric,  king  of  the  Goths :  Clovis  of  France  : 
Philip  the  Good,  and  Charles  the  Bold;  and  it  is 
with  a  start  of  delight  that  the  Englishman  reads  on 
the  pedestal  of  that  one  whose  port  and  bearing  are 
allowedly  the  most  knightly  and  the  most  royal, — 

ARTUR,    KONIG 
V.    ENGLAND. 

You  ask  not  why  he  is  here; — you  gaze  upon  his 
coroneted  helm  with  the  worship  of  one  who  had 
lived  his  subject ;  }'ou  mount  the  pedestal  and  raise 
his  barred  vizor,  and  look  upon  the  still  features; 
you  grasp  his  gauntleted  hand,  and  touch  his  sword — - 

(The  "  massy  blade 
Of  magic  teinper'd  metal  made,") 

with  a  fancy  that  you  are  daring  too  far,  and  down 
again  in  reverence  to  the  paved  aisle. 

I  lingered  among  these  forms  at  a  second  visit  till 
it  was  dusk.  Aibrechts  and  Rodolphs  were  frowning 
on  me  in  fearful  armour.  Queens  and  princesses 
standing  solemn  in  large  draperies  of  bronze,  and  I 
happily  pacing  or  pausing  among  them  with  a  cre- 
ated and  indulged  terror;  and  ever  as  I  came  near 
"  Artur,  Kb'nig  von  England,"  the  harp  of  Warton 
sounded  in  my  ear,  as  it  was  wont  to  do,  when  as  a 
boy  it  was  my  pastime  to  recite  his  fine  u  Ode  on 
the  Grave  of  King  Arthur."' 


THE   TYROL. 

In  (bis  same  church  lie  the  remains  oi*  Hofer  un- 
der a  plain  stone,  simply  inscribed  with  his  name. 
They  were  disinterred  and  brought  from  Mantua  by 
order  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  that  they  might  be 
honoured  with  a  public  funeral  in  the  capital  of  Ty- 
rol. They  were  received  by  the  faithful  Tyrolese 
with  transport,  and  followed  to  the  place  of  their 
present  rest  by  the  public  authorities,  the  military, 
and  crowds  of  the  peasantry,  who  flocked  down  from 
all  their  mountains  to  grace  the  glorious  procession. 
A  costly  monument  is  to  be  erected  to  the  memory 
of  this  great  peasant.  I  saw  the  design,  and  thought 
it  cumbrous.  The  tomb  of  such  a  man  cannot  be 
too  plain.  A  block  of  granite  on  a  mountain's  top 
were  enough  ;  and  1  would  have  it  on  a  mountain 
hitherto  pathless:  then  would  every  footstep  of  the 
way  be  a  trace  of,  and  a  tribute  to,  his  fame. 

The  man  who  served  me  during  my  stay  at  Ins- 
pruck  had  been  at  Mantua  when  Hofer  was  put  to 
death,  and  saw  him  shot.  He  was  an  Italian  of  the 
regular  indolent  domestique  de  place  character,  rous- 
ed, as  he  described  it,  by  the  running  past  of  an  idle 
crowd,  and  the  cries  that  a  man  was  to  be  shot : 
some  designating  him  as  the  great  robber,  some  the 
mountaineer  with  the  long  beard,  some  the  traitor, 
some  the  rebel.  He  told  me  that  Hofer  walked  pale 
and  praying,  but  very  firmly  ;  that  he  gave  his  watch, 
just  before  the  fatal  moment,  into  the  hands  of  a 
bystander,  as  a  legacy  to  his  family,  and  died  easily  : 
— a  better  head  and  a  worse  heart,  and  Hofer  would 
liot  thus  have  died.  A  Tyrolese  gentleman  tcld  me 
that  during  a  great  part  of  the  lime  of  that  insur- 
rection, Hofer  was  very  unhappy,  by  finding  himself 
involved  in  the  administering  of  so  many  affairs,  of 
which  he  knew  nothing.     His  great  adviser  was  a 


130  THE   TYROL. 

priest,  and  among  his  minor  advisers  another,  whu. 
it  is  whispered,  finally  betrayed  him.  Even  Hofer 
could  not  escape  the  charge  of  injustice,  nor  perhaps 
the  real  though  unintentional  commission  of  it.  To 
a  person  who  appeared  before  him  on  behalf  of  a 
friend  who  had  been  taken  up  and  put  into  prison, 
his  reply  was,  u  Your  friend  cannot  be  a  good  man 
or  without  fault  in  this  matter,  or  he  would  not  be  in 
prison:"  but  it  is  fair  to  add,  the  counsellor  priest 
was  at  his  elbow  ;  for  it  does  not  sound  like  the  cha- 
racter of  a  man,  who,  long  before  the  insurrection, 
was  continually  appealed  to  by  his  countrymen  as  a 
just  arbitrator,  as  one  who  would  hear  both  sides, 
say  what  in  his  conscience  he  thought,  and  from 
whose  decision  they  cared  not  to  appeal.  The  fate 
that  lifts  a  man  into  a  situation  of  high  responsibility 
may  bring  him  fame,  and  high  renown,  and  lasting 
gratitude,  but  it  will  deny  him  peace  till  he  finds  it 
In  the  silent  grave. 

The  convent  of  the  Capuchins  in  this  city  contains 
a  cell,  whither  the  great  Maximilian  was  wont  to  re- 
tire at  certain  seasons  for  the  purposes  of  devotion, 
and  where  he  performed  the  strict  penances  so  com- 
mon to  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  The  rude  arti- 
cles of  furniture  in  this  cell  and  a  wooden  inkstand 
are  said  to  have  been  the  work  of  the  monarch's 
own  hand.  Even  the  seclusion  of  the  penitent  is 
found  insupportable  without  some  occupation  that 
may  exercise  the  body,  and  divert  the  mind  from  the 
oppressive  weight  of  thought.  The  cell  of  a  royal 
penitent  does  always  more  deeply  interest  us.  Here 
it  is  that  we  find  them  men,  poor  men  like  ourselves, 
seeking  rest  for  their  hearts  : — a  rest  which  the  celt 
and  the  stripe,  the  vigil  and  the  fast,  can  never  give. 
The  walks  about  the  city  are  on  all  sides  beautiful 


THE  TYROL.  131 

and  interesting,  for  the  valley  is  of  the  greenest, 
and  the  loftiest  mountains  rise  close  above  it.  There 
were  several  companies  of  Tyrolese  jagers  stationed 
in  this  city.  They  appeared  fine  young  men,  brown* 
ly  ruddy,  erect  and  soldierlike,  but  certainly  much 
disfigured  by  a  most  unbecoming  uniform.  The  jac- 
ket and  trowsers  are  of  a  dull  dirty  grey,  the  hat 
round,  like  that  worn  by  our  marines,  and  like  that 
looped  up  on  one  side,  but  the  brim  of  it  is  narrow 
and  scanty,  and  the  whole  dress  has  a  paltry  and  un- 
martial  appearance.  I  must  except  the  officers  and 
Serjeants,  whose  hats  are  overshadowed  by  large 
black  plumes,  falling,  like  those  on  the  Scottish  bon- 
net, with  a  severe  and  frowning  grace.  In  general 
the  rustic  gains  in  personal  appearance  by  exchang- 
ing the  garb  of  a  labourer  for  the  uniform  of  a  sol- 
dier; but  the  peasant  of  Tyrol  sacrifices  all  that  in 
costume  is  calculated  to  display  the  form.  The  fine 
calf  of  his  well-made  leg  is  hidden  under  loose  trow- 
sers, his  manly  neck  confined  by  a  leathern  stock, 
and  the  very  rifle  in  his  hand,  if  you  couple  with  it 
his  black  cross-belts,  looks  less  warlike  than  the  wea- 
pon he  has  been  wont  to  bear,  when,  with  a  broad 
cartouch-belt  girt  around  his  waist,  he  leapt  lightly 
on  the  hunters  paths  among  his  native  mountains, 
or  stood  steady  in  his  aim  opposite  the  prize-target 
in  the  vale,  sure  to  hit  the  bull's  eye,  and  place  it  in 
pride  above  his  cottage  door. 

It  was  pleasant  to  me,  as  I  walked  the  streets 
here,  and  in  many  cities  throughout  the  Austrian  do- 
minions, to  be  saluted,  as  I  frequently  was,  by  the 
soldiers.  The  officers  of  the  Austrian  army  almost 
invariably  wear  plain  clothes  in  their  home  garri- 
sons, except  on  the  parade  or  on  any  duty,  a  circum- 
stance which  may  account  for  this.  Often,  however, 
10* 


V3»  THE   TYROL. 

this  compliment  was  paid  to  me  by  soldiers  who  evi- 
dently recognized  me  for  an  Englishman  and  an  offi- 
cer, although  no  part  of  my  dress  as  to  make  or 
colour  announced  my  profession.  The  circumstance 
gave  me  a  very  natural  pleasure.  I  was  glad  to  see 
the  army  of  my  country  so  widely  respected,  proud 
to  belong  to  it,  and  glad  to  feel  that  the  bivouac  had 
left  its  mark  on  me.  Military  life  is  a  strange,  an 
unnatural  life,  but  full  of  incident  and  excitation. 
The  man  who  has  passed  the  brightest  and  best 
years  of  his  existence  in  the  army  is  in  general  ill 
adapted  to  fall  down  quietly  into  a  still  place  in  pri- 
vate life,  especially  in  England,  where,  happily  for 
our  glorious  constitution,  however  mortifying  to  the 
individual,  an  officer  is  not  much  considered  at  any 
time.  It  is  too  often  forgotten  by  John  Bull,  that,  at 
that  very  period  of  life,  when  the  members  of  most 
other  professions  are  reaping  a  something  into  the 
garner  for  the  winter  of  their  days,  his  officers  who 
have  served  him  and  upheld  his  name  all  through 
the  spring  and  summer  of  their  existence,  have 
given  him  their  youth,  and  health,  and  strength,  and 
perhaps  have  cast  down  their  little  all  of  money  on 
the  promotion  lottery-table,  have  no  harvest  to  look 
to,  not  even  the  gleaning  of  a  fieid  ;  that  most  of 
them  are  fit  only,  "  like  rusty  swords  and  helmets, 
to  hang  up  i'  the  armory,"  but  without  the  hope 
that  "  new  wars  could  new  burnish  them  again." 
This  feeling,  among  retired  military  men,  acting 
upon  old  habits  and  early  associations,  produces  what 
has  been  called  demoralisation,  a  very  long  word 
which  has  been  in  every  body's  mouth  since  the  fall 
of  Napoleon,  and  the  dispersion  of  his  vast  army  ;  a 
word  which  does  simply  mean,  I  take  it,  that  unde- 
fined aching  of  the  old  soldier's  heart  after  the  roe- 


THE   TYROL.  133 

Jancholy  pleasures  (for  they  still  are  pleasures)  of 
campaigning.  Yet  the  active  spring  of  gladness 
which  gave  quick  motion  to  that  heart  in  youth,  and 
in  its  first  fields^  may  never  again  be  hoped  for,  and 
might  not,  nay,  assuredly  would  not,  in  like  scenes 
be  found.  This  demoralisation,  as  it  is  called,  is  but 
the  missing  of  accustomed  things,  and  the  longing 
for  them.  The  atmosphere  of  affection  in  which 
you  moved,  rude  and  rough  as  it  may  have  been  ; 
the  old  soldiers  with  whose  good  or  bad  qualities  you 
were  as  familiar  as  with  their  brown  faces ;  the 
young  whom  you  encouraged  ;  the  very  rascals  who 
were  as  thorns  in  your  flesh,  whom  you  ruled  with 
rigour,  or  reclaimed  with  judgment, — all  the  little 
favours  of  which  an  officer  is  the  dispensing  patron, 
— the  very  trump  and  the  drum  will  be  regretted, — 
the  music  of  the  march  and  the  music  at  the  meal ; 
and  as  for  friendship,  take  an  old  soldiers  word  for 
it,  in  the  common  relations  of  man  to  man,  the  title 
of  brother  officers  may  stand  high.  If  this  be,  as  I 
suspect  it  is,  demoralisation,  why,  then,  I  fear  it  will 
be  found  an  inhabitant  in  the  bosom  of  many  a  sol- 
dier in  retirement,  who,  though  he  may  have  chosen 
earlier  from  wisdom,  what  must  sooner  or  later  have 
been  his  fate,  does  not  feel  his  weaning  the  less. 

I  engaged  a  place  in  a  carriage  returning  to  Vien- 
na, for  the  chance  of  companionship ;  but  I  took  care 
to  bargain  for  a  halt  of  three  days  at  Saltzburg.  My 
travelling  companions  were  a  parish  priest,  and  a 
student  of  Padua,  both  natives  of  German  Tyrol,  and 
both  enthusiasts  in  their  love  of  their  native  coun- 
try. The  priest  spoke  French  with  tolerable  fluen- 
cy, and  could  read  English  a  little ;  the  student  un- 
derstood French,  but  could  not  converse  in  that  lan- 
guage :  both,  however,  spoke  Italian  freely,  so  that 


THE   TYROL. 

we  made  out  famously.  I  liked  them  both  :  the 
priest,  to  my  regret,  quitted  us  at  Saltzburg.  I  shall 
long  recollect  this  worthy  pastor  with  affectionate 
respect :  his  polite  attentions,  his  cheerfulness,  his 
kindness,  his  exhaustless  store  of  interesting  talk, 
his  tolerant  notions,  his  Christian  feeling,  and  an  oc- 
casional tinge  of  melancholy,  that  would  chase  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  a  few  minutes  only,  his  customary 
animation,  impressed  me  deeply.  u  Gratias  a  Dio" 
was  a  phrase  often  on  his  lip,  not  uttered  coldly  or 
cantmgly,  but  with  a  rub  of  the  hand,  and  a  sparkle 
of  the  eye  that  told  you  it  was  ever  in  his  heart:  he 
gave  it  to  the  sunshine  and  the  shade  ;  to  the  beauti- 
ful prospect  and  the  running  river ;  to  the  pleasant 
rest  and  the  pleasant  meal,  and  the  cool  chamber.  I 
could  have  journeyed  with  such  a  man  all  the  world 
over;  he  ordered  all  our  meals,  made  all  payments, 
gave  content  to  every  one,  and  host,  hostesses,  and 
kellerin,  if  they  did  not  smile  when  they  first  saw 
him,  were  sure  to  part  from  him  with  that  sort  of 
kindly  smiling  regret  which  is  so  pleasing,  and  so 
flattering  to  the  traveller,  where  he  can  believe  it  to 
be  sincere. 

My  companions  sung  for  me,  again  and  again,  the 
Evening  Hymn  of  the  Tyrolese  peasants,  beginning, 
Ci  Der  Heben  feiier  stunde  sc/ileckt ;"  "  The  loved 
hour  of  repose  is  strikmg,v  or,  as  our  English  hard 
has  it,  "  The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day." 

The  burden  of  this  song,  or  hymn,  as  they  broken- 
ly and  imperfectly  rendered  it  for  me,  is  beautiful, 
the  ideas  poetical,  and  the  lesson,— Content.  Even 
thus  prosaically  given,  the  reader  will  admit  its 
beauty : — 

u  The  loved  hour  of  repose  is  striking;  let  us 
come  to  the  sun-set  tree ;  let  us  lie  down  in  the 


THE   TYROL.  136 

pleasant  shade.  Oh  !  how  sweet  is  rest  after  lahour  ! 
How  I  pity  those  who  lie  all  day  on  the  couch  of 
down,  and  are  fatigued  with  doing  nothing !  They 
know  not  the  sweetness  of  rest  like  ours .  sweet  is 
this  hour  of  repose,  and  sweet  is  the  repose  of  the 
Sabbath  day;  but  sweeter  will  be  the  repose  of  that 
long  Sabbath,  when  we  all  rest  from  our  labours,  in 
the  presence  of  our  Heavenly  Father  !  There  will 
be  no  sun  to  burn  us;  there  will  be  no  toil,  no  pain, 
no  poverty,  no  sorrow,  no  sin,  but  sweet  and  long 
will  be  our  rest  in  heaven." 

Relying  upon  the  assurance  of  these  good  friends 
that  I  should  procure  both  the  words  and  air  at  Vi- 
enna, and  upon  my  own  memory  to  enquire  for  them, 
I  neglected  to  take  them  down  at  the  time,  and  have 
since  repeatedly  searched  for  them  in  music  shops, 
hut  in  vain.  The  air  is  uncommonly  simple,  and  I 
doubt  whether  even  in  Vienna,  where,  amid  new  ob- 
jects, I  forgot  it  altogether,  1  could  have  procured 
the  same  unadorned  melody  which  the  peasants  sing, 
each  evening,  at  the  sun-set  tree.  I  was  more  pleas- 
ed with  it  every  time  I  listened  ;  it  is  devotional, 
and,  sung  from  and  with  the  heart,  by  men  who  rise 
early  to  labour,  and  late  take  rest,  is  an  evening  sa- 
crifice, accepted,  surely,  at  the  gates  of  heaven. 

The  Tyrolese,  according  to  their  light  and  per- 
suasion, have  a  great  reverence  for  Divine  things. 
This  was  eminently  shown  during  their  insurrection 
(or  war,  1  will  call  it)  ;  for  the  mild  character  of  the 
Christian  religion,  as  taught  by  their  simple  paro- 
chial clergy,  subdued  in  them  those  vindictive  feel- 
ings, or,  at  least,  the  cruel  acting  of  them  against  the 
prisoner  and  the  captive. 

I  observed  that  my  good  priest  often  rose  sudden- 
ly, almost  immediately  after  our  meals,  and  paced  up 


K36  THE   TYROL. 

and  down  the  room  in  a  hurried  nervous  manner  ; 
then  he  would  pause,  and  seat  himself  again  at  table, 
and  apologise  to  me  for  so  doing  :  but  he  told  me,  as 
an  excuse,  and  a  mournful  one  it  sounded,  that  often, 
when  at  his  home,  he  made  his  solitary  meal  walk- 
ing about  the  room  ;  for  that  living  quite  alone,  he 
had  not,  as  1  can  well  understand,  at  all  times  the 
heart  to  sit  down  to  a  table.  He  taught  me  a  few 
German  words,  and  pledged  himself  to  make  a  Ger- 
man of  me  in  three  months,  if  I  would  come  up  to 
his  mountain,  and  study.  His  parish,  he  told  me, 
was  situated  about  five  leagues  from  Saltzburg,  and 
consisted  of  five  hundred  souls,  of  the  very  poorest 
class,  few  of  whom  could  read  or  write,  and  not  one 
among  the  whole  companionable  for  him  :  neither 
were  any  of  his  clerical  brothers  sufficiently  near 
for  social  intercourse.  He  represented  the  manners 
of  his  flock  as  extremely  simple,  their  moral  conduct 
excellent,  their  ignorance  that  of  children,  their 
obedience  that  of  children.  He  took  occasion,  from 
this  statement,  to  start  the  subject  of  our  Bible  So- 
cieties, and  to  condemn  the  distribution  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  among  the  common  people,  asking  me 
many  questions  concerning  our  societies  in  England 
established  for  that  purpose.  We  had  a  long  and  in- 
teresting conversation,  and,  of  course,  all  the  old  ar- 
guments were  soon  gone  over.  I  most  successfully 
used  the  argumentum  ad  hominem  in  this  instance  ; 
for  compelling  him  to  acknowledge  the  light,  the 
life,  the  hope,  the  peace,  the  consolation  that  he 
found  in  the  possession  and  daily  use  of  that  inesti- 
mable treasure  himself;  as  also,  that  if  the  child  of 
the  peasant  were  instructed,  at  a  tender  age,  in  the 
common  rudiments  of  plain  learning,  his  capabilities 
are  like  those  of  a  child  in  any  other  class,  and  that 


THE   TYROL.  137 

he  might  acquire  the  power  of  reading  the  Gospel 
for  himself,  and,  by  the  assistance  of  God's  Holy  Spi- 
rit, make  a  believing  application  of  it  to  the  wants  of 
his  own  heart,  at  all  times  and  seasons, — I  drove  him 
into  that  intrenched  corner,  where,  as  a  Roman  Ca- 
tholic priest,  he  was,  perhaps,  compelled  to  take 
refuge, — "  that  the  mother-church  is  the  soie  guar- 
dian and  the  only  true  interpreter  of  God's  word, 
and  that  ignorance  would  corrupt  it,  and  wrest  it  to 
its  own  destruction/'  Thus  it  is  that  spiritual  bond- 
age is  perpetuated  from  generation  to  generation.  I 
pressed  him  a  little  upon  the  strict  and  severe  govern- 
ment of  his  church,  especially  of  that  species  of  disci- 
pline which  watched  over  and  controlled  all,  even  the 
minutest  actions  of  domestic  life  ;  1  saw  that  his  mind 
was  with  me.  I  spoke  to  him  of  the  enforced  celibacy 
of  the  priesthood,  and  I  got  fairly  into  his  heart ;  for 
he  said,  with  sad  eyes  and  a  melancholy  warmth, 
that  it  was  the  institution  of  man,  and  certainly  not 
the  appointment  of  God.  He  asked  me  to  read  for 
him  a  chapter  of  Isaiah,  from  an  English  pocket  Bi- 
ble. I  did.  He  expressed  himself  delighted  and 
moved  with  the  rich  majesty  of  our  language,  and 
said  the  Latin  version  seemed  poor  compared  to  it ; 
so  1  told  him  was  the  Greek  considered  to  be  by  our 
best  scholars;  and  it  was  generally  allowed  that  the 
English  translation  was  alive  and  warm  with  the  very- 
spirit  and  power  of  the  Hebrew. 

1  dwell  upon  this  chance-companion  at  some 
length,  and  with  delight,  because,  although  it  is  by- 
no  means  true  of  any  nation,  "  ex  uno  disce  omnes" 
yet  the  inferences  to  be  drawn  concerning  a  people, 
by  intercourse  with  individuals  of  different  classes, 
ages,  and  professions,  however  short  that  intercourse 
may  be,  are  not  to  be  lightly  regarded.     One  pain- 


m  THE   TYROL. 

ful  subject,  connected  with  English  policy,  this  wor- 
thy man,  and  many  others  of  intelligence  whom  I 
occasionally  met,  questioned  me  upon,  with  a  kind  of 
wonder, — the  state  of  Ireland.  Who  can  explain  it 
to  the  satisfaction  of  a  clear  head  and  an  honest 
heart  ?  When  all  is  told  that  is  known,  or  can  be 
thought  of,  to  extenuate,  and  only  to  extenuate,  our 
blundering  legislation  for  that  unhappy  country,  still 
the  question  recurs,  are  these  things  to  be  for  ever 
so?  is  this  crying  evil  to  endure  for  ever? — and  the 
Englishman  can  only  answer  by  hanging  down  his 
head,  in  sorrow  and  in  shame. 

I  believe  that  if  the  Irish  Roman  Catholics  had 
been  emancipated  twenty  years  ago,  thousands  and 
thousands  of  them  would  now  be  of  the  Protestant 
persuasion  ;  that  the  whole  nation  would  have  pro- 
gressed rapidly  towards  spiritual  liberty,  in  the  light 
of  the  distributed  Word,  long  ere  this  ;  but  the  lan- 
guage held  by  the  mistaken  zealots  of  a  cause,  which, 
after  all,  perhaps,  the  mass  of  thinking  Englishmen 
have  more  warmly  at  heart  than  they,  has,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  more  than  once  alarmed  not  only  the 
timid  and  intolerant  Church  of  England  men,  but  its 
good  and  conscientious  members,  and  has  disturbed, 
if  not  for  a  time  destroyed,  the  hopes  of  every  lover 
of  civil  and  religious  freedom. 

But  i  am  forgetting  the  Unter  Inthal,  through 
which  we  travelled,  and  which  is  of  uncommon  beau- 
ty. The  Inn  is  ever  near  you,  the  prospects  varied 
and  romantic,  and  you  pass  occasionally  the  green 
yet  rocky  mouth  of  some  happy  valley,  that  is  the 
world  of  its  rustic  population. 

The  entrance  to  Saltzburg  is  very  striking ;  it  is 
by  a  noble  gateway,  cut  through  the  ruck,  under 
which  you  drive  for  nearly  one  hundred  yards.     "  Te 


SALTZBUKG.  139 

saxa  loquuntur,"  is  the  appropriate  inscription  ;  and 
the  bust  of  the  Prince-Bishop,  who  executed  the 
work,  is  above.  It  was  fair-time,  and  the  streets 
were  full  of  women,  with  a  strange-shaped  cap  of 
gilded  tissue.  The  appearance  of  it  is  remarkably 
contrasted  with  the  plainness  of  all  the  rest  of  their 
dress,  and,  as  it  is  not  very  tasteful  or  becoming,  it 
is,  doubtless,  some  dear  remnant  of  ancient  costume, 
clung  to  by  successive  generations,  who,  from  child- 
hood, fix  their  eyes  with  a  fascinated  gaze  on  the 
glittering  thing  it  will  one  day  be  their  privilege  to 
wear.  Saltzburg  is  a  fine  city,  that  is,  the  situation 
is  very  fine.  It  has  a  handsome  square,  a  lofty  and 
commanding  citadel,  some  fine  churches,  a  famous 
cemetery,  many  handsome  houses,  and  two  country 
palaces  in  the  immediate  suburbs  ;  but  the  uncom- 
mon grandeur  of  the  scenery  around  this  city  fixes 
the  admiration  of  every  beholder.  It  is  Alpine,  and 
just  at  the  proper  distance  for  giving  outlines  the 
most  bold,  and  every  light  and  shade  that  alternate 
mountain  and  defile  can  present.  The  views  from 
the  citadel,  which  is  large  and  empty,  and  about  the 
lonely  chambers  of  which  it  is  a  pleasure  to  be  led, 
are  very  fine  ;  that  from  the  summit  of  Monchsberg 
magnificent.  The  apartment  is  shown  you  where 
one  of  the  former  Prince-Bishops  was  confined  for 
five  years,  by  order  of  the  Pope,  because"  he  had 
brought  a  scandal  on  the  Episcopal  character,  by 
wedding  privately  a  fair  Gabrielle,  whose  statue,  re- 
cumbent, executed  in  a  coarse  and  spotted  marble, 
you  may  see  at  the  pleasure-chateau  of  Helbrunn, 
where  there  is  a  pretty  park,  stocked  with  deer,  a 
natural  amphitheatre  of  rock,  and  a  garden  childish- 
ly laid  out,  and  full  of  silly  tricks  and  toys. 

There  is  a  remarkably  fine  riding-house  in  Salt/- 
1! 


140  SALTZBURG. 

burg,  the  menage  of  which,  in  iis  dajr,  was  very 
famous.  It  is  now  used  by  a  regiment  of  Hungarian 
hussars.  I  walked  through  their  stables  ;  there  ap- 
peared to  me  a  great  want  of  order  and  cleanliness: 
but  I  was  struck  with  the  paintings  in  the  winter 
riding-school,  where  ail  the  represented  practice, 
both  of  horse  and  swordsmanship  is  pictured  by 
stricken  and  beheaded  Turks.  The  figure  of  the 
Turk  yet  remains  as  the  target,  the  butt,  or  fancied 
opponent  of  the  Christian  cavalier.  The  summer 
riding-school  is  spacious,  open,  and  backed  by  a 
scarped  rock,  in  which  .are  cut  galleries  for  the 
numerous  and  noble  spectators,  who  were  wont,  in 
former  times,  to  assist  at  these  exhibitions.  A  sta- 
tue of  Bucephalus  rears  at  the  watering-fountain,  and 
horses  are  pictured  in  a  rude  painting  behind,  in 
every  variety  of  playful  and  skittish  action.  Cer- 
tainly the  bishops  of  Saltzburg  were  of  the  church 
militant,  in  the  lowest  sense  of  that  word,  and  should 
have  worn  helmets  instead  of  mitres. 

About  nine  miles  from  Saltzburg  are  the  famous 
salt-works  of  Hallein.  It  is  a  beautiful  drive,  and  a 
most  rewarding  sight ;  to  me,  moreover,  it  was  a 
new  thing,  for  a  mine  1  had  never  seen.  I  took  an 
early  dinner  in  the  town  of  Hallein,  at  a  very  com- 
fortable hotel,  where  1  was  well  and  cheerfully 
served.  At  a  table  in  the  same  rocm  sat  two  gentle- 
men, of  middle  age,  one  of  whom,  a  pale  clever- 
looking  man  with  bad  health  and  bright  eyes,  soon 
fell  into  conversation  with  me.  While  it  was  gene- 
ral, all  was  well ;  but  as  soon  as  he  found,  on  ques- 
tioning me,  that  I  was  come  to  visit  the  mine,  he 
broke  away  on  his  hobby,  and  left  me  at  a  wonder- 
ing, but  not  an  envying  distance.  He  recommended 
to  me  the  perusal  of  two  quarto  volumes,  in  w\ 


SALTZBURG.  141 

these  salt-works  were  most  particularly  described, 
and  some  other  volumes  of  like  dimension,  on  his 
favourite  study.  He  politely  expressed  his  regret 
that  he  could  not  have  the  pleasure  of  accompanying 
me  that  evening,  and  I  saw  he  would  not  unwillingly 
have  done  so.  When  he  took  his  departure,  the 
steel  hammer  at  the  head  of  his  walking-stick  an- 
nounced to  me  that  he  was  that  most  formidable  of 
enthusiasts, — an  enthusiastic  geologist ; — a  travelling 
nobleman,  as  my  host  informed  me,  and  very  learned. 
Although  his  manners  were  most  pleasing,  I  was 
heartily  glad  to  be  left  alone  with  my  ignorance. 
The  language  of  geology  is  one  apart,  as  hard  as 
granite,  but  not  quite  as  durable  ;  for  1  am  told  the 
terms  are  continually  changing.  To  have  taken  my 
first  lesson  in  that  study  in  a  mine  would,  doubtless, 
have  been  a  great  advantages  but  1  freely  confess 
that  the  last  thing  I  wanted  to  listen  to  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth  was  a  lecture  on  geology,  as  diffuse  as 
this  worthy  philosopher  would  probably  have  given 
me.  I  ascended  the  mountain  behind  Hallein,  by  a 
beautiful  and  easy  path,  amid  scenery  of  a  most  pecu- 
liar and  enchanting  character.  There  is  the  black 
pine,  as  in  Switzerland,  and  there  is  grass  and  pas- 
ture intermingled  with  the  forest  patches,  as  in  that 
country  ;  but  yet  they  are  differently  disposed,  and 
the  verdure  of  the  sward  is  of  that  beautiful  depth 
which,  I  have  been  told,  is  so  remarkable  during 
their  brief  summer  in  Norway.  As  far  as  imagina- 
tion has  ever  pictured  to  me  Norwegian  scenery, 
that  of  the  mountain  above  Hallein  must  greatly 
resemble  it.— Near  the  summit  of  the  mountain  you 
find  a  small  church  and  a  few  dwellings,  and,  not 
very  distant,  in  the  face  of  a  small  cliff,  is  the  en- 
trance into  the  mine.     You  are  taken  into  a  small 


14^  sALTZBURG. 

room ;  a  light  coarse  dress  (as  of  a  miner),  which 
entirely  covers  your  own,  is  given  to  you ;  one  stout 
glove,  as  worn  and  polished  as  the  groove  of  a 
pulley,  for  holding  the  ropes  as  you  descend  the 
shafts ;  a  lighted  candle  is  put  into  your  hand,  and, 
with  a  miner  before  you  who  does  not  talk,  and  a 
domestiqve  de  place  who  will  if  you  let  him,  you 
enter  the  rock.  Man  is  the  rabbit  here  :  innumera- 
ble long  passages  pierce  the  mountain  in  every  di- 
rection :  they  are,  for  the  most  part,  strongly  lined 
and  roofed  with  rough  timbers ;  but  the  swelling  and 
pregnant  earth  does,  here  and  there,  force  a  way, 
and,  between  the  gaping  ribs  and  rafters,  you  see 
the  rock-salt,  with  its  veins,  of  a  deep  or  bright 
colour :  the  grey  and  red  predominate,  but,  occa- 
sionally, it  has  a  fine  yellow  tinge,  or  is  variegated 
with  a  dark  blue.  fl?he  descents,  although  some  of 
them  are  considerable,  are  none  &>rmidable,  or  even 
difficult :  you  lie  down  on  an  inclined  plank,  between 
two  smoothly-rounded  spars ;  a  rope,  which  is  made 
fast,  both  above  and  below,  is  held  lightly  in  the 
hand,  and  you  descend  with  the  greatest  possible 
ease.  If  you  lie  too  far  back,  the  motion  is  slow 
and  hesitating ;  if  you  lean  too  far  forwards,  you 
may,  and  probably  will,  pitch  upon  your  head  :  but 
if  you  hit  the  happy  medium,  "  the  cord  flies  swiftly 
through  your  glowing  hand,-'  and,  quick  as  lightning, 
you  are  fathoms  down  below.  There  are  two-and- 
thirty  reservoirs  at  Hallein ;  the  principal  one  will 
long  be  remembered  by  the  visitor.  Emerging  from 
a  narrow  gallery  in  the  rock,  I  came  suddenly  upon 
the  edge  of  a  small  lake.  A  faint  and  lurid  light 
gleamed  upon  the  surface  of  it ;  some  human  figures, 
indistinctly  seen  as  to  forms  or  faces,  further  than 
that  all  were  pale,  stood  and  moved  on  the  bank 


SALTZBURLi.  143 

opposite.  I  entered  a  small  bark  with  my  guide, 
and  was  ferried  over  it.  All  that  I  had  ever  read 
of  the  heathen  hell — of  the  heil  that  poets  feign — 
rushed  to  my  imagination,  and  my  blood  ran  chill 
with  an  awful  delight.  The  rock  above  is  blackness 
and  darkness,  and  glistens  slimy  and  damp  as  the 
grave.  The  rock  around  is  so  thrown  into  shadow, 
as  to  look  cavernous  and  sepulchral  The  water  is 
stagnant*  und  sluggish,  without  a  voice,  without  a 
smile:  all  is  severe,  all  sad  ;  it  seems  a  gulf  between 
life  and  death,  or,  rather,  between  the  grave  and 
hell. 

I  lingered  long  here  fascinated  as  by  some  unearth- 
ly power  ;  I  passed  and  repassed  the  gloomy  water ; 
1  walked  on  the  rocky  bank  there  where  it  lay  in 
deepest  shadow  ;  and  from  the  sixth  book  of  the 
iEneid  I  peopled  the  melancholy  region.  Nor  did  I 
forget  that  great  gulf,  which  the  Word  of  Truth  has 
told  us  is  fixed  between  those  that  have  served  God 
and  those  that  have  served  Satan.  All  may  read 
that  book  of  the  iEneid  with  deep  profit  to  their 
souls  beyond  the  solemn  pleasure  which  it  must 
afford  the  imagination. 

"  That  angry  justice  formed  a  dreadful  hell, 
That  ghosts  in  subterraneous  regions  dwell, 
That  hateful  Styx  his  muddy  current  rolls, 
And  Charon  ferries  o'er  embodied  souls, 
Are  now  as  tales  or  idle  fables  priz'd, 
By  children  question'd,  and  by  men  despis'd, 
Yet  this  do  thou  believe  !" 

Such  children  and  such  men  may  find  that  in  all 

ages  it  has  been  easy  to  wound  the  conscience  and 

convict  human  beings  of  sin  ;  and  he  may  learn  that 

to  heal  the   wounded   conscience  was  bevond  the 

11* 


M4  SALTZBURG. 

power  of  the  wisest  teachers  of  mankind  till  the  soft 
voice  of  the  Gospel-message  was  delivered. 

u  Lightning  and  thunder  (Heaven's  artillery) 
As  harbingers  before  th'  Almighty  fly  : 
Those  but  proclaim  his  style,  and  disappear, 
The  stiller  sound  succeeds,  and  God  is  there  !" 

Small  as  the  first  faint  ray  of  mercy  dawning  on 
the  darkened  soul  is  the  gleam  of  light,  which,  from 
a  black  chamber  in  the  bosom  of  the  mine,  is  visible 
at  the  extremity  of  a  gallery,  that  seems  intermina- 
ble. You  take  a  seat  with  your  guide  on  a  kind  of 
wooden  horse  on  wheels,  and  are  dragged  with 
great  rapidity  for  eight  hundred  yards  along  a  nar- 
row passage  in  the  rock,  not  without  an  apprehen- 
sion that  you  may  be  bruised  against  the  sides  of  it, 
and,  at  length,  emerge  in  safety  at  the  bottom  of  the 
mountain,  on  the  opposite  side,  and  find  yourself  in 
a  scene  of  wood  and  grass,  lighted  by  the  sun,  and 
still,  but  the  stillness  of  life.  You  hail  it,  your  flesh 
and  your  heart  leap  to  the  vivifying  influence,  and 
you  lie  down  upon  earth's  green  lap,  as  on  that  of  a 
mother. 

I  returned  home  to  Saltzburg  delighted :  I  had 
seen,  as  I  have  said,  a  new  thing.  I  well  know  that 
I  ought  to  have  been  disappointed.  You  see  at 
Hallein  no  chambers  of  the  rock  in  chrystal,  no 
grottos,  no  chapels,  no  dwellings,  no  families  begot- 
ten, born,  and  reared,  where  the  sun  never  shone. 
The  reservoir  or  lake  of  which  I  have  spoken  is 
said,  when  fully  illuminated,  as  it  is  occasionally,  out 
of  compliment  to  royal  visitors,  or  conquerors  of 
renown,  to  present  a  superb  spectacle.  The  few 
feeble  torches  which  they  placed  around  it  for  me, 
and  which  just  served  to  make  darkness  visible,  I 
should,  even  by  choice,  have  preferred. 


SALTZBURG.  145 

1  could  not  help  smiling  to  myself  as  I  drove  home 
to  think  of  my  escape  from  the  man  of  science,  and 
his  equal  good  fortune  ;  for  1  should  certainly  have 
either  run  rudely  from  him  in  the  labyrinthine  pas- 
sages of  the  mine,  or  have  been  silent,  or  inatten- 
tive, or  worse  for  him,  put  him  behind  me  on  my 
broomstick,  and  carried  him  away  into  the  regions 
of  the  air,  leaving  his  hammer  and  some  glorious 
specimen  crystallized  in  cubes  far  behind  us. 

The  day  following  I  made  an  excursion  to  the  lake 
of  Berchtolsgaden.  It  is  about  ten  miles  from  Saltz- 
burg,  and  in  a  direction  which  would  admit  of  its 
being  easily  visited  on  the  same  day  as  Hallein,  if 
the  traveller  started  at  an  early  hour,  and  made  his 
arrangements  accordingly.  The  road  is  for  a  consi- 
derable distance  the  same,  but  where  it  turns  away 
winds  through  a  narrow  and  most  picturesque  valley 
watered  by  the  Achen,  on  and  above  which  the 
town  is  built,  having,  as  it  should,  for  the  traveller's 
sake,  a  convent  and  a  castle.  I  passed  it  in  going, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  stream,  and  drove  through 
it  on  my  return. 

I  alighted  near  a  fisher's  hut  on  the  banks  of  the 
lake.  At  the  well  known  call,  out  came  a  smiling 
family  of  brothers  and  sisters  to  man  the  bark  :  one 
of  the  sisters  nearly  woman,  one  of  the  brothers 
nearly  man,  all  good-looking  and  cheerful,  making  a 
pastime  of  their  light  labour.  It  is  a  two-hours'  row 
to  the  head  of  the  lakje,  where  stands  a  solitary  old 
hunting  lodge  belonging  to  the  King  of  Bavaria. 
This  lake  may,  for  its  size,  vie  with  the  very  finest 
part  of  the  lake  of  the  four  Cantons  in  Switzerland. 
The  mountain  that  rises  to  the  south  of  it  is  very 
lofty,  inaccessible,  and  of  the  sternest  aspect;  the 
face  of  it  is  roughly  scarped,  all  of  bare  stony  rock 


SALTZBORG. 

rifted  and  jagged.  To  look  down  into  the  clear  and 
placid  lake  and  see  this  majestic  alp  reflected  there, 
and  to  watch  how  the  gentlest  rippSe  gave  it  such 
play  and  waver,  as  a  garment  floating  in  the  air, 
was  wonderful  It  is  not  solid,  then,  this  glorious 
earth, — a  bnght  shadow  only,  a  thing  that  shall  be 
wrapped  up  and  changed  as  a  vesture. 

About  three  miles  from  the  landing  place,  at  the 
foot  of  this  naked  mountain,  is  a  natural  curiosity, 
called  the  Chapel  of  Ice.  I  walked  there  by  a  wild 
path  through  a  wood,  and  among  stumps  overgrown 
with  moss,  which  led  out  upon  the  stony  bed  of  a 
winter  torrent  :  up  this,  for  there  is  little  water  in 
it  in  summer,  you  pass,  and  see  before  you,  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountain,  a  very  small  glacier.  From  its 
situation  it  is  much  sheltered  from  the  sun,  and  the 
snow  lying  supported  by  the  two  sides  of  a  small 
ravine,  through  which  a  stream  continually  flows, 
that  hollow  is  formed  which  has  given  rise  to  its 
name.  I  left  my  guide  at  the  mouth,  and  proceeded 
up  it  alone.  There  is  no  kind  of  hazard  or  difficulty  : 
you  have  to  scramble  and  slip  over  the  huge  stones 
which  have  been  worn  round  and  smooth  by  the 
torrent,  and  water  drops  on  you  from  the  snowy  roof. 
One  chasm  in  that  roof  lets  in  the  blue  sky  and  the 
sunbeam,  and  lights  up  the  very  inmost  recess  of  this 
rude  and  chilly  oratory.  Undine  alone  could  per- 
form a  vigil  in  it  with  comfort.  I  walked  out  upon 
the  crackling  surface  of  the  snow,  and  again  descend- 
ed beneath  it  to  feel  and  enjoy  the  thing;  to  listen 
to  the  running  water,  and  the  slow  and  mournful 
droppings  from  the  glistening  roof.  Proud  temples 
of  stone  and  marble  shall  crumble  and  be  overthrown, 
while  in  this  the  hermit,  or  the  hunter,  or  the  lone 
traveller  shall  breathe  his  unuttered  prayer-  for  cen~ 


SALTZBURG.  i« 

turies  to  come,  in  peace.  War,  tumult,  rapacity, 
persecution,  never  reach  a  spot  like  this  : — happy 
the  king  that  has  so  lone  a  hut  to  run  to,  and  dis- 
crown himself,  as  the  hunting  lodge  of  Berchtolsga- 
den.  They  gave  me  there  a  plain  and  delicious 
repast  of  fresh  lish  and  some  excellent  wine.  I  sat 
in  the  quiet  chamber  and  rude  chair  where  the  (late) 
King  of  Bavaria  was  wont  to  take  his  homely  meals, 
and  talk  of  the  sports  he  loved  with  plain  men,  who 
liked  them  as  much  as  himself.  It  was  delightful  to 
hear  the  people  at  this  place  speak  of  the  King,  and 
not  only  they  but  the  commonest  rustics  of  Berch- 
tolsgaden.  Not  long  after  this  very  day  I  heard  of 
the  sudden  death  of  this  excellent  man  while  at 
Vienna.  For  that  evening,  however,  I  enjoyed  for 
him  the  dream  of  a  longer  life,  and  of  repeated  visits 
to  his  fishing  cottage. 

The  return  across  the  lake  was  still  more  delight- 
ful than  the  passage  of  the  morning.  The  sisters 
and  their  brothers  sang  as  they  plied  the  oars.  I 
landed  at  one  or  two  fine  points,  and  at  last  reluc- 
tantly came  on  shore,  and  was  driven  most  rapidly 
home. 

There  is  a  comfortable  inn  at  Saltzburg.  I  got  a 
most  excellent  room,  and  was  well  served.  I  should 
think  it  a  delightful  place  to  pass  a  month  at  as  head- 
quarters, and  make  excursions  among  the  mountains. 

I  observed  at  table  a  young  man  rather  of  the 
dandy  cast,  red  and  white,  and  who  spoke  French 
always,  but  with  a  bad  and  affected  pronunciation, 
and  a  wretched  choice  of  expressions.  I  learned 
that  he  was  a  prince,  and  a  captain  in  the  regiment 
of  Austrian  infantry  stationed  in  the  city.  I  must  re- 
mark, in  passing,  that  in  the  Austrian  army  the  con- 
sidered, or,  as  we  familiarly  term  them,  crack  regi- 


148  SSLTZBURG. 

rnents  of  foot,  rank  before  and  much  higher  than 
their  cavalry,  and  have  more  men  of  family  among 
their  officers.  From  some  enquiries  which  1  made 
here,  as  to  prices  and  the  common  expenditure 
among  young  military  men  of  his  cast,  1  found  that 
with  an  income  which  would  scarcely  keep  a  British 
officer  in  the  garrison  of  Dublin,  however  quietly 
he  might  desire  to  live,  this  gentleman  was  enabled 
to  keep  two  men-servants,  (not  soldiers)  two  horses 
which  he  rode  or  drove  in  light  carriages,  two  of 
which  he  kept,  a  close  and  an  open  one  ;  all  this  he 
did  upon  two  hundred  florins  a  month  ;  and  1  was 
assured,  and  made  to  see  from  calculation,  that  the 
thing*  was  easy.  To  he  sure  there  is  one  thing  that 
would  never  meet  the  ideas  of  an  Englishman, — the 
personal  expenditure  of  this  man  at  table,  for  all  his 
meals,  did  not,  perhaps,  on  ordinary  occasions, 
amount  to  two  florins  a  day.  But  the  luxury  of  con- 
veyance is  cheap  in  Germany,  as  also  the  hire  of 
common  valets  and  grooms.  If  you  are  in  a  town  of 
any  size  or  consequence  you  can  procure  an  excel- 
lent, and  often  a  very  elegant  carriage  with  good 
horses  and  a  respectable  coachman  at  a  very  reason- 
able daily  rate.  I  left  Saltzburg  with  the  hope  that 
in  the  course  of  my  life  1  might  visit  it  again,  and  be 
enabled  to  make  a  longer  stay  there. 

The  kutcher  had  supplied  the  place  of  our  worthy 
padre  by  a  fat  woman  who  had  been  selling  the 
refuse  millinery  of  her  shop  in  Vienna  at  the  fair  of 
Saltzburg.  After  one  glance  of  reconnaissance,  I  ex- 
ulted in  the  discovery  that  she  did  not  speak  a  word 
of  French  or  Italian.  It  was  as  good  as  a  comedy 
to  see  the  kutcher  reading  my  face  as  he  introduced 
this  new  passenger,  and  evidently  thinking  about  the 
possible  effect  she  might  have  in  trying  my  temper. 


SALTZBUUG.  14tf 

or  trying  my  purse  at  the  close  of  our  long  journey. 
We  certainly  doubly  regretted  our  late  companion, 
but  the  young  student  and  myself  lived  together  and 
made  the  best  of  it :  she  never  ate  with  us,  to  our 
great  delight ;  and  we  gave  one  side  of  the  vehicle 
to  her  person,  her  pockets,  and  her  parcels. 

The  small  post-towns  of  this  part  of  Germany 
have  a  very  dull,  uninteresting  aspect :  one  street, 
and  two  or  three  indifferent  inns,  are  generally  what 
you  discover — and  all. 

The  noon-day  repast  in  these  small  inns  is  not 
very  tempting:  a  bad  soup  and  a  slice  of  hard  beef 
is  the  usual  fare,  but  you  can  generally  get  a  good 
glass  of  wine  to  wash  it  down. 

The  first  evening  we  had  a  large  party  at  table, 
and  they  were  all  talking  about  steam-engines,  with 
a  most  violent  degree  of  wonder  and  interest.  The 
circumstance  of  our  sending  a  steam-vessel  to  India, 
which  they  had  just  read  of  in  a  newspaper,  had  set 
them  off;  and  though  many  of  them  spoke  French, 
and  were  very  anxious,  apparently,  to  converse  with 
me,  it  was  with  difficulty  I  could  keep  them  in  their 
animation,  out  of  their  dear  expressive  German.  I 
remember  well,  about  fifteen  years  ago,  living  for 
some  weeks  en  pension  with  the  sous  prefet  of  a  de- 
partment in  France,  when  a  prisoner  in  that  country, 
and  that  three  German  officers  were  also  of  the  par- 
ty, ft  was  a  particularly  interesting  period,  and  one 
when  politics  were  daily  discussed,  and  also  the 
movements  of  the  French  and  the  allies,  who  were 
then  in  the  heart  of  France.  This  was  done  freely 
and  allowedly,  the  Frenchmen  taking  their  part,  just 
as  men  should  do,  and  agreeing  to  differ  on  many 
points.  All  these  Germans  spoke  French  and  Eng- 
lish admirably,  but  it  was  irresistibly  diverting  to 


150  AUSTRIA. 

see  them,  as  they  warmed,  break  from  French  into 
English,  as  nearer  the  genius  of  their  own  language, 
and  soon  after  away  into  their  rugged  German,  every 
eye  in  a  sparkle,  and  every  mouth  frothing  at  the 
corner,  while  myself  and  the  Frenchmen  were  left 
behind,  I  to  translate  to  them  what  they  had  said  in 
English,  and  both  of  us  to  wait  with  patience  till 
they  gave  us  a  lame  French  version  of  what  they 
had  volubly  poured  out  in  German. 

It  will  be  seen  that  what  is  called  speaking  a  little 
of  a  language  will  not  answer  with  the  German  ;  he 
can  neither  listen  to,  understand,  nor  attempt  to  sup- 
port a  conversation  with  you  so.  I  think  it  is  the 
author  of  "An  Autumn  on  the  Rhine"  who  repre- 
sents himself  as  venturing  on  a  little  conversation. in 
German  with  some  old  dowager  whom  he  met,  and 
being,  literally,  thrown  out  at  starting.  To  return  : 
with  this  party  our  nation  stood  the  highest  and  first : 
we  were  every  thing  that  was  energetic,  and  indus- 
trious, and  wonderful.  Notwithstanding,  however, 
all  that  the  Austrian  may  utter  in  favour  of  other 
countries,  all  that  he  may  trust  himself  to  say  against 
the  ministers  of  his  own,  still  the  very  word  "  Kai- 
ser" is  dear  to  him  ;  and  certainly  the  Emperor  has 
the  hearts  and  voices  of  his  people,  as  far  as  he  and 
his  family  are  concerned. 

The  following  day  at  our  noon-repast  we  met  two 
or  three  parties  of  travellers  who  halted  at  the  same 
inn  :  in  one  of  them  my  eye  caught  an  unhappy 
Englishman,  and  my  ear  the  disastrous  accents  of 
some  French,  calamitously  pronounced,  and  this  in  a 
vain  and  unintelligible  effort  to  be  playful  with  the 
German  ladies  of  another  party.  His  age,  the  cut 
of  his  black  coat,  his  spectacles,  all  made  me  con- 
jecture that  he  was  some  wandering  lexicon  that 


AUSTRIA.  151 

had  rashly  left  his  college-rooms,  his  commons,  and 
his  bed-maker,  for  a  voyage  of  discovery.  I  thought 
the  sound  of  English  might  be  a  comfort  to  him, 
and,  as  1  wanted  myself  to  learn  the  latest  English 
news,  I  crossed  the  room  to  accost  him.  He  was  as 
gruff  as  an  under  porter:  he  had  not  seen,  he  said, 
nor  asked  for  a  paper  while  in  Vienna.  To  humble, 
to  punish  him,  I  asked,  if  he  had  not  felt  the  embar- 
rassment of  not  being  able  to  speak  German.  He 
growled  out  u  No,"  his  French  carried  him  every 
where.  I  saw  him  turn  over  a  bit  of  rindfleisch 
(beef)  and  some  sour  krout  with  uncontrollable  dis- 
satisfaction ;  he  looked  as  if  he  had  been  long  un- 
brushed,  and  was  thoroughly  uncomfortable :  he 
evidently  disliked  his  companions,  and  they  him.  I 
politely  bade  him  a  good  day  and  a  good  journey, 
which  he  angrily  acknowledged.  His  party,  in  won- 
der, half  rose,  and  bowed  to  me  with  a  smile,  and  I 
left  him  to  pursue  my  journey.  Now  fancy  such  a 
man's  account  of  Germany  at  his  college-table,  and 
fancy  his  fellow-travellers'  portrait  of  their  English 
companion.  It  is  evidently  a  mistake  for  a  man  of 
an  advanced  age,  settled  habits,  and  without  a  foreign 
language,  to  attempt  journeying  on  the  Continent, 
especially  in  a  country  like  Germany,  alone.  I  am 
persuaded  that  such  a  character  brings  false  impres- 
sions away  with  him,  and  leaves  behind  him  false, 
and  undeservedly  bad  impressions,  not  only  of  him- 
self but  of  the  English  temper. 

The  famous  Benedictine  monastery  of  Mb'lk,  one 
of  the  most  splendid  in  Austria,  is  the  only  remark- 
able object  on  the  road  between  Lintz  and  Vienna. 
It  has  the  form  and  aspect  of  a  palace  :  quadrangles, 
windows,  stair-cases,  galleries,  apartments  of  a  pa- 
lace ;  all  is  light,  and  space,  and  magnificence.  Its 
12 


I«2  AUSTRIA. 

situation  is  very  noble  ;  upon  a  rocky  plateau,  high, 
but  immediately  above  the  Danube,  commanding  a 
very  fine  view  of  the  windings  of  the  river.  The 
country  to  the  right,  as  you  look  up  the  stream,  pre- 
sents a  vast  spread  of  elevated  plain ;  plain  that, 
when  Napoleon  rested  here,  was  covered  with 
trampling  squadrons  of  cavalry,  and  heavy  masses, 
of  his  infantry  advancing  to  the  conquest  of  Vienna. 
They  9how  you  the  chamber  that  he  occupied,  and 
a  burn  upon  the  floor  of  it,  caused,  as  they  told  me, 
by  his  throwing  down  in  anger  a  letter  from  the 
Emperor  of  Austria,  declining  to  meet  and  give  him 
an  interview.  He  was  not,  I  should  think,  very 
likely  to  destroy  such  a  document,  even  in  the  trans- 
port of  his  rage  ;  but  this  may  be  a  fiery  print  of 
his  wrath  produced  in  some  other  manner.  There 
is  another  version  of  the  anecdote,  and  a  half-con- 
sumed volume  in  the  library,  which  he  was  said  to 
be  reading  at  the  moment.  The  brothers,  and  the 
librarian  among  them,  were  at  dinner,  so  that  we 
neither  saw  the  book  nor  heard  the  story  correctly. 

There  is  a  picture  in  this  convent,  in  a  small 
chapel,  by  Albert  Durer,  on  which  the  traveller  will 
gaze  long  with  delight ;  it  is  a  Madonna, — no,  not 
a  Madonna, — u  a  Mutter  Gottes"  The  head  is  man- 
tled white  ;  the  face  is  fair,  and  full,  and  not  young ; 
but  the  expression  is  ail  mother.  I  mean  not  to 
speak  of  it  as  a  fine  conception  of  the  Virgin,  but  as 
a  perfect  one  of  a  mother. 

There  is  another  picture  here  of  great  excellence 
- — a  Rubens.  The  subject,  The  appearing  of  the 
Angels  at  the  Sepulchre  of  our  Lord,  to  declare  his 
Resurrection  to  Mary  Magdalene  and  the  Women 
who  accompanied  her.  The  garments  of  these  an- 
gels are  shining,  and  their  hair  streams  out  of  a 


AUSTRIA.  153 

brightness  that  marks  them  as  immortal.  There  is 
a  radiance  about  them  that  you  would  fear  but  for 
the  calmness  that  re-assures  the  troubled  breast : — 
who  does  not  love  the  things  that  give  such  strange 
and  sublime  emotions  ? 

This  abbey  is  rather  collegiate  in  its  character 
than  monastic.  The  gardens  are  pleasant  and  well 
stocked,  having  green-houses  and  hot-houses.  There 
is  a  handsome  music  saloon  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  a 
gay  paper  on  the  walls  with  eastern  plants,  their 
large  bright  flowers,  and  the  painted  birds  of  Asia. 
This  does  not  look  very  convent-like ;  but  it  is  a 
monastery,  and  sadder,  I  think,  as  a  residence,  than 
one  older  and  meaner,  bare,  and  stained  grey  ;  for, 
what  are  all  these  comforts  ?  what  is  this  music  sa- 
loon, if  the  voice  of  woman  is  never  to  warble  there, 
her  eye  never  to  light  it  up  ? 

Within  ten  miles  of  Vienna,  at  Burgersdorf,  I 
quitted  my  good  kutcher  and  his  vehicle,  and  took 
the  post,  that  I  might  avoid  embarrassment  and  de- 
lay at  the  gates.  It  was  not  without  regret  that  I 
parted  with  my  'worthy  young  student.  It  would 
surprise  those  who  hold  the  German  students  cheap, 
to  listen  to  one  of  their  better  sort ;  they  literally 
sigh  for  knowledge.  They  hoard  their  little  all  of 
money  for  the  purchase  of  books,  their  all  of  time 
for  the  acquirement  of  learning.  It  is  delightful  to 
be  questioned  by  them  on  any  thing  you  fancy  your- 
self to  be  well  acquainted  with,  and  not  an  easy  thing 
to  satisfy  their  intelligent  curiosity.  The  govern- 
ment of  Austria  is  very  strict  with  all  students ;  will 
not  suffer  them  to  travel,  and  watches  their  conduct 
with  great  jealousy.  This  youth  was  studying  at 
Padua  to  prepare  himself  for  public  employment  in 
the  Italian  provinces.     It  is  the  present  policy  of 


154  AUSTRIA. 

Austria  to  encourage  Germans  to  fill  the  public  offi- 
ces there,  and  her  Italian  subjects  to  seek  situations 
in  Austria  Proper ;  a  circumstance  which  causes  the 
Italian  language  to  be  so  much  studied,  that  a  travel- 
ler speaking  Italian  only,  would  find  little  difficulty 
in  journeying  from  Inspruck  to  Vienna. 

In  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Burgersdorfl  took 
an  evening  walk  before  I  ordered  my  horses  ;  and 
really  the  wooded  beauty  of  the  scenery,  its  still- 
ness, the  dress  of  the  few  peasants  I  met,  the  rude 
wooden  bridges,  the  dells  and  paths,  and  the  lone 
waters,  might  have  induced  me  to  believe  that  I  was 
far,  very  far,  from  the  crowds  and  the  corruption  of 
a  capital. 

They  gave  me  a  pair  of  beautiful  iron  greys  with 
long  and  silver  tails,  young,  full  of  mettle,  in  high 
condition,  and  I  was  driven  cheerily  to  Vienna.  I 
notice  the  horses,  because,  I  should  before  have  re- 
marked, that  between  Lintz  and  Vienna  I  frequently 
met  light  waggons  either  laden  with  small  merchan- 
dise, or  carrying  passengers  of  a  humble  class,  who 
lay  upon  straw  ;  and  yet,  that  very  many  of  these 
waggons  were  drawn  by  four  horses  of  great  beauty 
and  in  high  condition.  It  is  delightful  to  observe 
throughout  Germany  how  seldom  horses  are  tasked 
or  worked  above  their  strength,  or  have  the  appear- 
ance of  being  ill  fed  and  neglected.  The  only  ex- 
ceptions, indeed,  that  I  remarked  to  this  humane 
and  creditable  conduct,  were  among  the  drivers  of 
the  common  fiacres  in  their  large  cities,  and  occa- 
sionally among  such  of  their  kutchers  as  had  lost 
somewhat  of  their  nation's  tenderness  for  horses  by 
associating  with  French  voituriers  and  Italian  vet- 
turini. 

It  was  dark  when  I  reached  the  barrier.     I  found 


VIENNA.  155 

the  very  word  "  Englander"  enough  :  they  gave  me 
no  trouble  about  baggage,  but  received  their  small 
fee  with  a  bow,  and  suffered  me  to  drive  instantly 
forward. 

We  proceeded,  at  a  fast  pace,  through  the  wide 
street  of  a  very  long  suburb,  among  numbers  of  car- 
riages, all  in  rapid  motion,  and  at  last  came  out  on  a 
wide  dark  space,  which  separates  the  suburbs  from 
the  city.  The  city  lay  before  me.  no  otherwise  to 
be  distinguished  than  by  its  numerous  lights,  which, 
as  they  shone  up  out  of  a  blackness  that  complete- 
ly enveloped  both  the  walls  and  buildings,  present- 
ed the  appearance  of  a  vast  camp,  or  bivouac.  A 
roll  over  a  draw-bridge,  a  rattle  under  a  gate-way, 
a  drive  up  one  street,  and  a  turn  into  a  clean  court- 
yard, and  the  welcoming  bell  and  respectful  servants 
of  a  well-ordered  hotel,  will  greet  the  traveller  who 
directs  his  driver  to  take  him  to  the  Archduke 
Charles,  in  the  Korner  Strasse.  He  will  find  com- 
fortable apartments,  civil  attendance,  excellent  fare, 
it  la  carte,  at  any  hour,  in  a  beautiful  saloon,  well- 
behaved  domestiques  de  place,  and  a  most  respectable 
and  handsome  carriage  whenever  he  may  need  one. 
The  prices  are  fixed  and  reasonable. 

Vienna  is  not  the  city  1,  perhaps,  expected  to  find 
it,  although  a  very  delightful  place ;  indeed,  1  might 
have  known  that  it  could  no  longer  be  what,  to  the 
imagination  of  a  fond  reader  of  travels,  it  is  so  often 
represented.  The  figures  in  the  streets  of  Vienna, 
both  men  and  women,  if  I  except  a  few  of  the  lowest 
class,  might  walk  undistinguished  and  unobserved 
down  Regent  Street,  or  through  the  Burlington  Ar- 
cade. The  journeyman  tailor,  the  bootmaker,  the 
hatter,  and  the  young  milliner  of  London,  might,  in 
the  articles  they  respectively  deal  in.  detect  some 


156  VIENNA. 

difference  in  material  or  workmanship  ;  but  the  tra- 
veller sees  around  him  hats,  coats,  trowsers,  boots, 
black  stocks,  and  high  shirt-collars,  such  as  he  may 
have  hoped  that  he  had  left  behind  ;  bonnets,  rib- 
bons, gowns,  shoes,  shawls,  and  false  curls,  such  as 
he  has  seen  before.  Fashions  now  travel  faster  than 
they  were  wont  to  do  ;  and  I  think  not  that  the  very 
tasteful  and  elegant  white  chapeaux,  so  common 
among  the  belles  of  Vienna  at  the  period  of  my 
visit,  had  been  discarded  at  the  very  time  from  the 
promenades  of  Paris  or  of  London. 

As  to  the  old  story  of  Turks,  Tartars,  Greeks, 
Poles,  Croats,  Sclavonians,  and  Hungarians,  being 
seen  every  where  in  their  national  dresses,  it  is  told, 
and  will  be  repeated  no  more.  The  day  for  that 
kind  of  display,  for  that  proud  avowal  of  country 
and  forefathers,  is  gone  by :  a  solitary  Turk  may, 
perhaps,  be  seen  scowling  under  his  turban,  near 
the  hotel  of  an  ambassador.  The  miserable  Scla- 
vonian  peasants  do,  indeed,  in  small  groups,  attract 
attention  to  their  sallow  cheeks,  their  lank  and  hor- 
rid hair,  their  coarse,  and  dull,  and  filthy  garb  ;  and 
the  young  Hungarian  hussar  still  dashes  past  you, 
the  pelisse  hanging  gracefully  from  his  shoulder, 
the  kalpac  looking  noble  on  his  head  ;  but  for  the 
visitors  of  other  nations,  Greek,  Pole,  even  Tartar, 
they  have  sunk  into  plain,  unpicturesque,  hatted  men. 
As  a  general  observation,  I  should  say  the  Viennese 
dress  well. 

The  aspect  of  Vienna,  as  to  its  streets  and  build- 
ings, is  different  from  that  which  I  should  have  ex- 
pected :  it  is  not  Germanic,  it  is  Italian  ;  the  palaces, 
the  public  buildings,  the  mansions  of  the  nobility, 
have  the  regular  Italian  character,  but  are  decided- 
ly inferior  to  the  stately  edifices  of  Florence  and  of 


VIENNA.  157 

Rome.  Many  of  the  streets  in  the  city  itself  are 
narrow,  and  the  houses  lofty,  an  evidence  of  their 
age  ;  but  yet  there  is  nothing  antique  about  them, 
or  striking.  Their  shops,  indeed,  are  distinguished, 
as  our  own  were  in  the  olden  time,  by  signs,  either 
fixed  or  dangling  above  them,  or  by  small  paintings, 
displaying  the  articles  they  sell.  Here,  over  a  ho- 
sier's shop,  hangs  a  golden  sheep ;  there,  at  an  apo- 
thecary's, figures  Esculapius  on  a  painted  board  ; 
while  here  again,  upon  the  shutter  of  a  chandler's 
shop,  two  flying  Cupids  (really  very  fairly  executed) 
support  between  them — a  pound  of  tallow  candles! 

The  squares,  with  the  exception  of  Joseph  Platz, 
and  that  of  the  palace,  scarce  deserve  the  name ; 
the  others,  so  called,  are  only  open  spaces,  irregular 
in  form,  and  appropriated  to  the  holding  of  markets, 
or  else  such  areas  as  have  been  left  vacant,  round 
churches.  The  Graben  is  one  of  the  best  and  bu- 
siest of  these  open  spaces,  being  filled  with  cheerful 
shops,  and  adorned  with  two  fountains,  and  a  curious 
monument,  commemorative  of  the  plague  which 
ravaged  Vienna  in  1679,  and  of  the  gratitude  of  the 
Emperor  Leopold  and  his  people  when  it  was  stayed. 

There  is  one  feature,  however,  in  this  city,  which 
more  than  redeems  the  tame  character  of  the  rest ; 
the  august  cathedral  of  St.  Stephen  stands  lofty  and 
alone  in  the  midst  of  it.  Upon  its  roof  painted  tiles 
glitter  in  the  sunbeam,  and  seem  gaudier  than  the 
adornments  of  so  venerable  a  pile  should  be  ;  more- 
over,  the  taste  for  that  style  of  roofing  is  strictly 
Moorish.  Yet  I  know  not,  if  this  very  thing  gives 
it  not  a  new  and  peculiar  interest  in  the  eye  of  the 
traveller,  as  he  reflects  that  the  Ottoman  has  pranc- 
ed fierce  before  it,  thirsting  for  its  destruction.  On 
the  outside  it  may  be  said  to  be  encumbered,  but 


158  VIENNA. 

richly  so,  with  ornamental  stone-work.  For  my  own 
part,  I  like  that  lavish  expenditure  of  material,  and 
of  labour,  which  the  Gothic  nations  bestowed  upon 
their  temples.  1  never  enter  one  of  the  vast  and 
noble  cathedrals  which  they  erected  that  my  heart 
does  not  thank  them.  They  built  always  with  costly, 
uncalculating  devotion  for  a  thousand  generations. 
The  interior  of  St.  Stephen's  is  grand  and  grave  : 
the  space  and  the  gloom  give  a  liberty  of  thought 
to  the  spiritual  minded,  and  afford  a  shade,  in  which 
the  mourner  may  pray  unnoticed  by  the  happy. 

Prince  Eugene,  a  name  dear  to  the  reading  sol- 
diers of  all  countries,  reposes  in  this  church :  his 
tomb  is  in  the  chapel  of  the  Holy  Cross.  I  ascend- 
ed the  tower :  the  view  is  magnificent ;  and  it  is  a 
great  pleasure  to  see  the  huge  bell,  cast  a  century 
ago,  from  the  cannon  of  the  defeated  Turk. 

There  is  in  Vienna  a  museum  of  no  small  interest, 
called  the  Collection  Ambras,  from  the  castle  of  that 
name  in  the  Tyrol :  it  consists  of  old  armour,  old  por- 
traits, old  relics,  old  toys,  old  works  of  art.  Woe  to  the 
curious  or  careless  person  who  swept  from  my  cham- 
ber, at  some  inn  on  my  route  home,  the  printed 
catalogue  of  its  treasures,  where  1  had  pencilled 
down  my  delight  in  notes  of  admiration  opposite 
many  objects  of  interest,  which  I  can  no  longer  call  to 
mind.  The  figures  in  armour  are  very  numerous,  and 
of  renowned  men ;  they  are  disposed  in  many  cham- 
bers, a  few  in  each  chamber,  mounted,  and  the  walls 
covered  with  arms  and  suits  of  armour.  It  is  by  far 
the  finest  exhibition  of  the  kind  I  ever  saw,  and  I 
am  not  forgetting  our  own  line  of  kings,  or  the  boy- 
throb  with  which  I  should  still  visit  them.  But  these, 
although  they  cannot  claim  so  high  an  historical  in- 
terest, are  kept  in  better  order,  disposed  in  better 


VIENNA.  159 

taste,  and  the  whole  display  has  a  stem  severity 
about  it.  These  coats  of  mail,  these  helmets,  these 
costly  trappings  and  caparisons,  glossy  with  their 
velvets,  and  heavy  with  embroidery ;  these  long 
lances,  and  long  swords,  and  beside  them  hung  the 
Turkey  bridle,  and  the  crooked  scimitar,  and  the 
captured  crescent, — are  things  you  cannot  tire  with 
gazing  on.  There  is  also  a  chamber  with  old  por- 
traits of  the  middle  ages,  and  another  with  curiosi- 
ties, such  as  delicate  works  in  gold,  ivory,  rare 
shells,  and  precious  stones,  quaintly  carved  into  toys, 
for  the  princely  and  the  wealthy  of  by-gone  days, — • 
all  objects  of  a  singular  interest  to  minds  that  like 
looking  back  into  those  ages. 

I  mention  this  museum  because  it  suits  the  English 
taste,  and  shows  how  much  there  is  to  be  found,  all 
over  Germany,  suited  to  that  taste. 

To  give  an  account  of  the  museums  and  collec- 
tions of  Vienna  in  detail  would  require  a  residence 
of  many  weeks  or  months  in  the  city,  and  would  fill 
a  volume  ;  but  it  is  not,  I  think,  the  province  of  the 
mere  traveller  to  give  catalogues  of  the  contents  of 
galleries,  but  a  brief  mention  of  their  existence  and 
value,  and  to  present  rather  the  impressions  made 
on  him  by  the  appearances  of  a  country  and  a  peo- 
ple. 1  must  say,  therefore,  that  every  one  who  visits 
the  city  of  Vienna  will  find  that  there  are  galleries 
rich  in  paintings,  and  that  the  museums  in  general 
are  well  deserving  his  attention. 

There  is  a  splendid  library,  the  saloon  of  which 
is  truly  magnificent,  and  the  rare  and  valuable  cu- 
riosities of  which  they  freely  exhibit. — There  is  an 
interesting  cabinet  of  natural  history. 

There  is  a  cabinet  of  antiquities,  where  the  col- 
lection of  engraved  stones  and  cameos  is  uncommon- 


160  VIENNA. 

]y  rich  and  beautiful ;  and  where,  let  me  with  gra- 
titude record  the  name,  a  Monsieur  Arnett  shows 
them  to  the  delighted  stranger,  with  a  patience,  a 
kindness,  and  a  courtesy,  which  are  too  rarely  met 
with  among  professed  antiquarians  for  me  ever  to 
forget  them. 

There  is  another  cabinet  of  monuments,  busts, 
lamps,  and  vases ;  and  there  is  one  expressly  set 
apart  for  Egyptian  antiquities  ;  but  neither  of  these 
last  are  very  rich  in  their  contents. 

The  Imperial  Gallery  of  Pictures  at  the  Belve- 
dere Palace  is  large,  and  contains  many  fine  paint- 
ings ;  some  Rubens,  of  a  vast  size,  and  several,  by 
other  masters  of  name,  that  were  taken  from  the 
suppressed  convents,  in  the  time  of  the  Emperor 
Joseph  II. 

The  Gallery  of  Prince  Lichtenstein  is  uncommon- 
ly rich,  especially  in  the  works  of  Rubens  ;  and  iu 
this  palace  is  the  noblest  hall  in  Vienna. 

The  Arsenal  is  well  deserving  a  visit.  *  The  wide 
corridors,  where  the  arms  are  brilliantly  and  fanci- 
fully disposed,  run  round  a  square  court,  where 
hangs  a  massive  chain,  with  which  the  Turk,  during 
his  memorable  siege,  shut  up  the  navigation  of  the 
Danube.  In  the  saloons  there  are  many  Turkish 
arms,  and  the  head  of  the  vizier  Kara  Mustapha, 
who  commanded  at  the  last  siege,  is  preserved 
among  them.  There  are  also  many  antique  arms, 
und  many  figures  in  fine  suits  of  ancient  armour; 
round  some  of  these  the  glorious  old  swords  were 
girt  with  belts  of  bright  blue,  or  rather  gaudy-co- 
loured ribbons,  with  silver  or  gilt  fringes,  fresh  from 
the  shop  of  some  stage-milliner  in  the  Graben.  I 
qould  not  keep  silence  at  the  absurdity  and  impro- 
priety of  this  ;   I   was  provoked  :    it  destroyed  aU 


VIENNA.  161 

illusion,  and  offended  the  taste  so  grossly,  I  cannot 
understand  how  it  can  have  been  permitted.  I  let 
out  upon  the  subject  with  such  good-humoured  en- 
thusiasm, and  this  before  a  large  party  of  Germans, 
who  so  cordially  agreed  with  me,  that  the  conduc- 
tor looked  vexed,  and  ashamed, — I  hope  sufficiently 
so  to  report  it  where  the  error  may  be  rectified. 
The  Germans,  as  a  people,  love  to  escape  in  thought 
from  the  present  to  the  past ;  they  are  ever  ready 
to  revert  to  those  periods  of  time  which  are  so  rich- 
ly coloured  by  the  hues  of  romance,  and  which  shine 
bright  with  the  deeds  of  chivalry.  Not  far  from 
Vienna  the  Emperor  himself  has  a  costly  toy  exhi- 
biting this  taste  very  strongly;  it  is  called  the 
Knight's  Castle,  and  lias  been  erected  with  great 
care  and  keeping,  after  the  model  of  some  ancient 
baronial  castle  ;  moat,  drawbridge,  portcullis,  arched 
gateway,  court,  hall,  chapel,  chambers,  dungeons, 
walls,  passages,  galleries,  communications,  turrets, 
— all  correctly  designed  and  fitted.  The  apartments 
have  old  ceilings,  old  wainscotlings,  that  have  been 
purchased  at  a  great  expense  ;  old  furniture,  old 
pictures,  ancient  armour,  ancient  manuscripts,  and 
illuminated  missals ;  and,  preserved  in  glass  cases, 
many  most  valuable  curiosities,— goblets,  vases, 
dishes,  trinkets,  toys, — all  of  the  middle  ages,  and 
of  rare  costliness. 

At  a  little  distance  from  the  castle  he  has  a  tilting- 
ground,  with  regular  lists  for  the  joust  and  tourna- 
ment. Once  or  twice  they  have  held  mock  tourneys 
-here  for  his  amusement.  Methinks,  if  the  grim 
Albrechts  and  Rodolphs  of  other  days  could  look 
out  of  their  graves,  they  could  not  choose  but  smile 
at  their  descendants. 

This  taste   obtains   among   the   people.     I   s*w, 


162  VIENNA. 

while  I  was  in  Vienna,  two  pieces,  one  in  their  Ope- 
ra-house, entitled  "  The  Prince  of  Bavaria ;"  the 
other  at  the  court  theatre,  called  "  The  Fortunes 
and  Death  of  King  Ottocar."  In  the  former,  which 
was  a  fine  pageant,  it  was  surprising  with  what  mi- 
nute attention  all  the  suits  of  armour  had  been  pre- 
pared ;  nothing  could  be  more  perfect  than  the  illu- 
sion. The  prince  was  personated  by  a  fine  hand- 
some young  man,  with  fair  shining  hair;  and  when 
he  stood  unhelmed  beside  the  lady  of  his  love, 
wooing  her,  it  was  a  fine  picture.  In  one  part  they 
introduced  twenty  knights  on  horseback,  and  gave  a 
scene  a  little  too  Astley-like,  but  exceedingly  well 
done.  In  the  latter  piece,  which  is  a  tragedy,  but  I 
should  judge  a  heavy  one,  there  is  much  of  the  like 
show,  and  really  (armour,  beard,  and  build,  all  con- 
sidered,) the  fierce  Ottocar  seemed  to  live  again  in 
the  person  of  his  representative.  But,  speaking  of 
the  theatre  in  Vienna,  I  must  forget  things  like  these. 
I  went  repeatedly  to  the  court  theatre,  where, 
alone,  the  true  drama  is  given,  and  I  was  alike  sur- 
prised and  delighted.  1  was  fortunate  enough  to  be 
present  at  the  representation  of  the  "Death  of  Wal- 
Jenstein."  Although  I  sent  early  to  secure  a  seat, 
and  went  early  that  I  might  reach  it  without  incon- 
venience, I  could  only  get  a  seat  in  the  last  row 
but  one  of  the  parterre,  and  the  theatre  was  crowded. 
I  have  before  said  that  I  am  ignorant  of  the  Ger- 
man language ;  but,  by  translation  and  analysis,  I  was 
well  acquainted  with  the  tragedy  of  Wallenstein  ;  I 
could  follow  and  feel  all  through.  I  made  no  effort 
to  construe,  as  it  were,  but  let  the  words  fall  on  my 
ear ;  and,  if  it  caught  the  sense,  well ;  if  not,  the 
picture  and  the  movement,  the  look  and  the  tone, 
were  enough  for  me.     The  effect  of  German  acting 


VIENNA.  163 

—at  least  of  such  acting  as  this — is  wonderful :  it 
has  a  character  of  nature  in  it  that  is  never  lost  sight 
of;  the  walk,  the  turn,  the  entrance,  the  exit ;  the 
rising,  sitting,  using  the  hand,  ungirding  of  a  sword, 
adjusting  of  apparel,  all  deliberate,  without  being 
affectedly  slow;  and  the  tones  ever  varying,  as  they 
do,  according  to  what  is  said  and  felt  among  persons 
of  the  like  class  in  actual  life.  The  actor  who  per- 
formed Wallenstein  never  once  gave  you  the  idea 
of  a  man  that  had  learned  the  words  of  a  part,  and 
uttered  them  before  ;  and  when,  at  the  close,  after 
the  finest  possible  exhibition  of  a  silent,  supersti- 
tious, thoughtful  frame  of  mind,  he  passes  down  the 
stage  to  his  sleeping-chamber,  you  feel  a  stamp  of 
reality  about  it  all,— as  if  you  alone  had  been  per- 
mitted to  listen  to  the  words  of  this  being,  and  to 
see  him  thus, — as  if  they  never  could  be  uttered, 
he  never  looked  upon,  again.  The  character  of 
Thecla  was  admirably  filled :  the  taste  would  have 
desired  for  her  a  more  beautiful  face  and  form, 
though  she  was  not  plain ;  but  the  eye,  as  it  follow- 
ed her  movements,  was  satisfied  ;  the  ear,  as  it  list- 
ened to  the  soft  and  loving  tones  of  a  voice  sweeter 
than  any  song,  was  ravished.  The  celebrated  scene 
in  this  tragedy  where  Thecla,  having  demanded  an 
interview  with  the  officer  who  brings  to  her  father 
the  intelligence  of  her  lover's  fate,  asks  for  and  list- 
ens to  the  detail  of  his  honourable  daring,  and  me- 
lancholy death,  is  a  situation  as  nobly  conceived, 
and  as  effective,  as  any  in  the  whole  range  of  the 
drama.  The  audience,  but  for  coursing  tears  and 
bursting  sighs,  were  mute.  Women  were  in  every 
box ;  and  in  the  body  of  the  theatre  stood  a  crowd 
of  manly  and  bronzed  officers. 
13 


164  VIENNA. 

I  must  not  be  told*  that  the  German  language  is 
"  at  once  monotonous  and  vulgar  ;"  that  "  there  is 
no  nobleness  in  its  passion  ;"  that  the  poet's  lines, 
M  in  the  mouths  of  the  best  actors,  have  a  muddy, 
murmuring  harshness;"  that  "  there  is,  in  fact,  a 
prosaic  meanness  in  the  sound  of  the  language  ;"  and 
that  the  style  of  acting  of  a  German  is  "  without 
even  dignity  and  chaste  energy."  I  must  not  be  told 
this ;  because  these  happen  to  be  just  the  points  on 
which  any  Englishman  with  an  eye,  an  ear,  and  a 
memory  of  the  best  models  or  his  own  stage,  may 
form  a  judgment  and  pass  an  opinion.  There  is 
another  thing  I  am  sorry  to  have  been  told,  by  a 
gentleman  of  no  common  talent,  no  common  obser- 
vation, and  whose  three  years'  residence  in  Germa- 
ny, together  with  the  generally  admitted  ability  of 
his  book,  give  him  a  most  superior  claim  to  atten- 
tion, and  cause  him  to  be  quoted,  indeed,  as  an  unan- 
swerable authority,  on  almost  every  subject  (except 
her  literature)  connected  with  Germany,! — namely, 
"  that  there  cannot  be  a  more  dissolute  city  than 
Vienna, — one  where  female  virtue  is  less  prized, 
and,  therefore,  less  frequent."  I  must  say,  that  I 
think  his  judgment  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  very 
harsh,  and  very  hastily  pronounced. 

Vienna  is  a  capital  and  a  garrison.  The  citizens, 
although  every  shop  is  filled  with  proofs  of  their 
industry  and  ingenuity,  are  great  lovers  of  pleasure; 
they  like  to  sit  under  the  shade  of  trees  and  awn- 
ings, when  they  can ;  they  like  to  eat  and  drink  of 

*  An  Autumn  near  the  Rhine,  page  382, — a  book  by  some 
gentleman  of  undoubted  talent,  who  has  not  treated  this  subject 
quite  fairly.  I  am  an  enemy,  though  an  humble  one,  to  all 
sweeping  and  indiscriminate  censure. 

i  Russet's  Tour, 


VIENNA.  165 

the  good  things  which  their  country  furnishes  in 
abundance  ;  they  like  the  sound  of  music ;  and  they 
like  to  crowd  into  a  ball-room  for  a  dance  ; — all  this 
they  like  ;  and  it  is  strictly  true  with  them,  as  else- 
where, that  they  are  lovers  of  pleasure  rather  than 
lovers  of  God.  That  is  a  very  serious  and  a  very 
affecting  consideration,  as  it  regards  mankind  at 
large ;  but  the  question  is  not  one  that  I  wish  to 
treat  here  as  a  mourning  moralist,  but  simply  as  a 
traveller,  as  an  observer  of  my  fellow-creatures. 
And  I  can  only  form  my  own  opinions  from  the  eye, 
and  these'  gathered  during  a  very  short  stay,  and 
from  what  may  appear,  to  many  of  my  readers,  very 
trifling  and  inconsequent  circumstances. 

In  the  fitet  place,  before  eleven  o'clock  at  night 
the  city  is  in  profound  repose :  not  a  female  is  to  be 
seen  in  the  streets.  A  solitary  figure  may  still  stand 
at  the  doorway  in  the  alleys  near  the  Graben,  or  a 
shivering  wretch  still  loiter  on  the  ramparts  near 
the  guard-houses, — but  there  is  no  impudent  solicit- 
ing of  the  passenger,  there  are  no  loud  voices  in  the 
thoroughfares,  there  is  no  sound  of  revel  from  the 
windows.  By  day  there  is  no  display  or  indecency 
of  dress  or  manner  in  public  places,  no  staring,  no 
turning  of  the  head,  no  open  interchange  of  glances, 
no  evident  assignation-making. 

In  the  Prater,  the  gardens,  the  squares,  and  pro- 
menades, and  in  the  theatres,  nothing  can  be  more 
quietly  and  naturally  cheerful  than  the  manners  of 
the  citizens'  wives  and  their  daughters.  The  neat- 
ness and  care  with  which  boys,  girls,  and  children  of 
the  tenderest  ages,  are  dressed,  and  their  smiling 
and  happy  appearance,  would  lead  the  gazer  to  the 
very  natural  conclusion — that  their  parents  loved 
them,  and  each  other.     That  in  Vienna  the  wealtjiy 


166  VIENNA. 

profligate  may  purchase  the  favours  of  needy  and 
corrupted  beauty, — and  this,  too,  where  the  female 
has  family-duties  that  she  violates,  and  passes  in  the 
scale  of  society  above  the  open,  but  more  virtuous, 
though  more  wretched  prostitutes, — I  have  no  doubt ; 
but  that  a  total  want  of  principle  is  so  universally 
diffused  among  the  wives  and  daughters  of  citizens 
in  comfortable  and  affluent  circumstances,  that  to  in- 
crease the  means  of  their  extravagance  they  are 
ever  ready  to  sacrifice  themselves  to  a  worthless 
purchaser,  I  certainly  am  not  disposed  to  believe. 

That  in  a  city  where  all  dunce,  the  abandoned 
should  dance  also,  and  that  there  should  be  ball- 
rooms in  which  gentlemen  are  admitted  for  sixpence, 
and  females  free,  does  not,  I  confess,  surprise  me 
any  more  than  the  existence  of  many  places  of  re- 
sort both  in  Paris  and  London,  where  I  doubt  if  the 
meetings  are  for  purer  purposes,  and  where,  as  in 
Vienna,  they  are  confined  to  the  very  lowest  classes. 
Travellers  who  know  Paris,  and  Naples,  and  Venice, 
may  bear  with,  however  they  may  deplore,  the  dis- 
sipation of  the  citizens  of  Vienna ;  and  it  would  be 
well,  if,  in  judging  of  foreign  countries,  we  English- 
men kept  present  in  our  minds  the  exact  scenes 
.which  our  own  metropolis  would  exhibit  to  the  eye 
of  a  foreigner;  and  how  rash  would  be  his  condem- 
nation of  us,  as  a  body,  if  he  formed  his  opinions 
from  our  theatres,  our  streets,  our  Vauxhall,  our 
tea-gardens  on  a  Sunday  evening,  or  from  the  va- 
rious lodging-houses  in  the  vicinity  of  Leicester- 
Square,  where  foreigners  are  often  made  to  fancy 
themselves  for  the  first  few  days  in  respectable  pri- 
vate lodgings, — to  say  nothing  of  the  picture  that 
square  must  present  to  him  every  hour. 

With  regard  to  the  people  of  Vienna,  they  are 


VIENNA.  167 

politically  degraded :  they  are  not  allowed  to  speak, 
and  they  cannot  be  expected  to  think,  like  indepen- 
dent men.  But  I  believe  them  in  their  families  to 
be  an  honest,  affectionate,  cheerful  race,  always 
ready  to  make  holiday,  happy  in  seeing  their  wives 
and  children  partakers  of  their  pleasures,  and  in  no 
feature  of  their  character  more  remarkable  than  in 
their  frank  and  obliging  deportment  to  the  stranger. 

1  recollect  not  to  have  seen  a  beggar  in  Vienna. 
The  benevolent  institutions  are  numerous ;  the  go- 
vernment interests  itself  greatly  in  the  conduct  of 
them,  and  the  citizens  pay  cheerfully  to  support 
them.  There  are  also  many  associations  among  the 
inhabitants  for  securing  pensions  to  themselves  in 
the  season  of  sickness,  and  in  the  decline  of  life. 
There  are  not  less  than  ten  of  these,  of  different 
classes.  In  .short,  although  the  good  people  eat  and 
drink,  and  make  their  souls  enjoy  the  good  of  their 
labour,  they  do  certainly  never  forget  to  show  some 
sort  of  gratitude  to  God,  by  the  free  exercise  of  love 
and  charity  towards  their  fellow-creatures.  Their 
loyalty  is  excessive  ;  the  word  Kaiser  is  ever  in 
the  mouth,  whether  they  talk,  or  sing ;  and,  strange 
as  it  may  sound,  there  certainly  is,  in  this  most  de- 
spotic of  all  governments,  such  a  paternal  mildness, 
a  justice,  a  wisdom  in  the  administration  of  the  laws, 
and  in  the  moral  rule  over  the  people,  that  crimes 
are  not  very  frequent,  and  capital  punishments  very 
rarely  inflicted. 

I  saw  the  garrison  under  arms',  with  laurels  in 
their  caps,  on  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Leip- 
sic.  The  Hungarian  grenadiers  are  remarkably  fine 
men.  They  have  not  that  smartness  under  arms 
which  the  Prussians  have,  nor  have  they  that  ani- 
mated 'intelligence  of  look  which  marked  the  old 
13* 


168  VIENNA. 

Imperial  Guard  of  France.  But  they  are  very  war- 
like ;  their  stature  tall,  their  limbs  large,  their  com- 
plexions brown,  their  uniform  white,  the  cap  of  sable 
fur,  the  pantaloon  of  a  pale  Hungarian  blue  ;  they 
are  slow  and  steady  in  every  movement;  and,  even 
as  they  marched  at  ease  to  the  ground,  I  observed 
that  none  ever  smiled.  I  cannot  conceive  these  men 
flying  in  battle  ;  I  doubt  if  they  have  ever  been  driven, 
— they  have  stood,  and  died  where  they  stood.  The 
regiment  of  Austrian  grenadiers  which  paraded  by 
their  side  was  a  very  fine  body  of  men,  but  greatly 
inferior  to  the  Hungarians.  A  squadron  of  Hunga- 
rian hussars  disappointed  me.  We  have  no  cavalry- 
general  that  would  not  have  ordered  them  off  the 
ground,  their  turn-out  was  so  wretched  ;  but  they 
ride  beautifully,  and  look  bitter,  and  ready  for  the 
melee.  That,  however,  does  not  excuse  such  neglect 
of  cleanliness  as  would  be  discreditable  to  recruits ; 
and,  to  make  all  worse,  their  clothing  was  old  and 
worn  out.  Some  of  the  young  officers  were  most 
brilliant  in  their  appearance,  and  made  those  demi 
voltes  in  air  which  the  Hun  should  make.  The  finest 
cavalry  I  saw  in  Austria,  although  there  were  none 
on  the  ground  this  day,  are  the  cuirassiers.  The 
white  dress,  the  black  cuirass,  the  scaled  helmet, 
the  high  boot,  the  long  sword,  and  the  broad,  brave, 
clean-looking  dragoons  themselves,  and  their  strong 
and  well-conditioned  horses,  I  shall  long  remember. 
The  dress  of  the  Austrian  artillery  is  painfully 
unmartial,  but  the  men,  taken  as  a  body,  are,  per- 
haps, as  fine-looking  soldiers  as  any  nation  can  boast. 
Their  uniform  is  a  rhubarb  coloured  drab  jacket,  of 
a  long  awkward  shape,  with  red  cuff  and  collar,  and 
they  wear  a  round  hat,  with  the  flap  on  one  side 
looped  up,  and  a  dark  feather.     The   conduct  of 


VIENNA.  169 

these  men  wherever  I  saw  them  appeared  to  me 
most  excellent.  There  are  many  peculiarities  in 
costume  in  the  Austrian  army,  which,  till  the  eye  is 
familiar  with  them,  offend  the  taste.  Their  gene- 
rals, for  example,  are  distinguished  by  red  breeches. 
Now,  inexpressibles  of  this  colour  are  so  closely 
associated  in  the  mind  of  an  Englishman  with  those 
liveries,  which  many  servants  will  not  even  engage 
to  wear,  but  in  which  the  fat  servants  of  some  old 
families  must  still  be  content  to  appear,  that  we 
really  cannot  keep  our  countenances,  or  look  upon 
these  worthy  leaders  with  the  grave  respect  which 
is  their  due.  The  Austrian  army  is  certainly  a  very 
fine  one ;  and  again,  as  among  the  Prussians,  the 
stranger  asks  himself,  how  came  the  French  so  con- 
tinually to  defeat  them  ?  it  must  have  astonished  the 
French  themselves.  The  Austrian  officer,  who  dis- 
charges his  duty  with  zeal  and  intrepidity,  may  never- 
theless linger  away  a  life  without  distinction  :  here, 
perhaps,  is  one  reason.  Yet,  when  we  reflect  how 
nobly  on  many  occasions  the  troops  of  Austria  have 
behaved,  although  so  few  incentives  are  furnished  to 
their  ambition,  we  must  feel  increased  respect  for 
the  character  of  the  Austrian  soldiery.  There  is  a 
peculiar  love  to  the  profession  of  arms  common,  in 
a  greater  or  less  degree,  to  all  Germans,  both  north 
and  south.  They  love  the  steed  and  the  sabre,  the 
rifle  and  the  powder-horn.  They  love  the  sound  of 
the  trumpet  and  the  echo  of  the  bugle.  They  like 
that  strange  uncertainty  of  life  which  takes  away  all 
anxious  care  about  any  other  provision  than  for  the 
passing  day.  They  delight  in  the  excitement  of  the 
march ;  and,  if  the  pipe,  and  the  flute,  and  the  pen- 
cil, are  in  their  tent,  they  feel  the  camp  a  home. 
As  lovers,  too,  they  object  not  to  that  hurried  life 


170  VIENNA. 

which  strengthens  and  refines  a  virtuous  attachment, 
making  the  object  of  it  a  vision  sweet  and  sacred  for 
those  lonely  hours,  which,  even  amid  the  tumults  of 
a  campaign,  the  soldier  can  always  command. 

Baden  very  greatly  disappointed  me.  It  is  a  poor 
place,  and  not  to  be  compared  with  any  other  water- 
ing place  in  Germany  which  I  saw. 

The  season  was  indeed  gone  by ;  still  it  was  evi- 
dent to  me  what,  even  filled  with  company,  Baden 
would  be.  I  visited  the  baths,  and  to  my  astonish- 
ment saw  persons  of  both  sexes  in  the  bath  together, 
andf  moving  about  up  to  their  necks  in  the  steaming 
water.  A  lady  with  the  unwetted  curls  of  a  hand- 
some head  carefully  dressed,  was  of  the  party,  and  a 
fat  old  gentleman,  who,  his  face  alone  appearing 
above  the  water,  looked  like  a  red  and  rising  moon. 
This  practice  seems,  and  is  indecent ;  although  cus- 
tom has  apparently  so  reconciled  visitors  to  it,  that 
they  walk  about  in  the  water  as  grave,  as  calm,  as 
unconcerned,  as  if  they  were  promenading  in  a  gar- 
den. The  bathing  dresses  are  large,  long,  and  fast- 
tened  high  up  on  the  neck. 

There  is  a  miserable  square,  not  larger  than  a 
prison  yard,  with  a  few  small  trees  in  it,  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  town,  that  they  call  The  Pork,  and  a 
painted  wooden  building,  unworthy  the  poorest  guin- 
guette  near  Paris,  styled  with  great  pomp  in  the 
guide  books  the  Eastern  Pavilion.  Not  far,  however, 
from  Baden  is  a  narrow  defile  with  wood  and  water, 
and  high  overhanging  rocks,  and  ruined  castles  on 
their  summits,  called  the  Valley  of  St.  Helena. 
Hither  the  Germans,  who  have  the  true  pic-nic  taste, 
and  just  the  temper  and  talents  to  make  such  a  thing 
pass  off  agreeably,  resort  during  the  season  in  great 
numbers.    At  the  mouth  of  this  valley  is  a  private 


VIENNA.  171 

palace  belonging  to  the  Archduke  Charles,  which 
will  charm  every  English  visitor.  It  is  beautifully 
fitted  up  ;  that  is,  every  article  of  furniture,  every 
colour,  whether  of  curtains,  draperies,  paper,  or 
carpets,  will  be  found  in  a  taste  quiet,  chaste,  like 
the  private  gentleman.  In  the  possession  of  rank, 
renown,  and  fortune  ;  of  things  yet  better  than  these, 
of  an  attached  wife  and  sweet  children,  he  seems,  as 
by  good  fortune,  to  have  escaped  the  crown  and  the 
palace,  the  council  and  the  camp,  and  to  have  found 
what,  it  is  probable,  even  when  he  led,  and  glorious- 
ly led,  the  armies  of  Austria,  he  most  coveted, — a 
home,  a  family,  and  repose. 

He  is  universally  represented  as  a  man  very  do- 
mestic and  home-loving,  and  simple  and  unassuming 
in  his  manners.  It  is  a  remarkable  thing,  that  in 
Austria,  where  kings  and  princes  certainly  possess 
power  the  most  despotic,  their  carriage  and  bearing 
among  their  subjects  should  be,  as  it  universally  is 
represented  to  be,  plain,  quiet,  and  even  yielding. 
No  escorts  ever  drive  you  out  of  their  way.  The 
fiacre  will  cut  in  before  the  Imperial  carriage,  and  in 
the  long  line  on  the  Prater  the  citizen  in  his  hackney, 
the  traveller  in  his  job,  the  noble  and  the  prince  of 
the  Imperial  family  with  their  splendid  equipages 
take  their  place  in  file,  and  roll  along  undistinguish- 
ed in  the  same  crowd.  It  is  not  the  etiquette  to 
uncover  to  them  ;  and  I  was  told  that  the  English 
visitors  at  Vienna  were  remarked  as  being  almost 
the  only  strangers  who  saluted  them.  It  is  the 
natural  impulse  of  a  gentleman  to  bow  to  the  mem- 
bers of  a  royal  family.  However,  I  suspect,  a  good 
many  of  my  countrymen's  bows  here  (could  I  have 
seen  them)  were  given  in  a  manner  that  might  have 
been  translated  ipto  w  Look  at  me ;  I  am  an  English^ 


172  VIENNA. 

man,  I  am  a  free  man.  1  have  made  you  a  bow,  and 
you  ought  to  be,  as  doubtless  you  are,  struck  by  my 
politeness,  and  flattered  by  my  condescension.  My 
bow  is  in  real  value  equal  to  the  united  kotou  of  all 
these  slaves  in  the  Prater,  who,  to  my  astonishment, 
never  bow  at  all, — one  reason  why  I  do." 

You  may  easily  discover  from  the  manners  of  all 
the  servants,  guards,  and  orderlies  about  the  royal 
gardens  and  palaces  near  Vienna,  that  the  Emperor 
is  as  glad  to  forget  the  iron  sceptre,  which,  guarded 
by  his  ministers,  himself  is  a  slave  to,  as  the  hum- 
blest citizen  that  walks  the  gardens  of  Schoenbrunn. 

The  palace  of  Schoenbrunn  is  a  handsome,  cheer- 
ful residence  ;  its  halls,  staircases,  and  apartments, 
spacious  and  noble.  The  gardens  are  very  beautiful, 
and  well  laid  out.  There  is  a  fine  ornamental  build- 
ing in  them,  called  the  Gloriette.  It  is  a  stately 
pillared  portico,*  open,  with  a  saloon  above,  and  a 
terrace  on  the  roof:  it  shines  afar,  and  is  seen  many 
miles  distant. 

The  spot  in  the  garden  that  most  interested  me 
was  a  small  plot  of  enclosed  ground,  which  is  tilled, 
and  looked  after,  by  young  Napoleon,  who  generally 
resides  with  his  governor  in  this  palace.  I  naturally 
looked  in  the  garden  of  a  boy  for  flowers  and  plants,' 
but  his  fancy  has  been  for  the  growing  of  potatoes. 
His  amusement,  the  gardener  told  me,  was  to  try  if 
he  could  not  so  train  the  tops  of  the  plant  as  to 
dispose  them  into  some  beauty,  and  that  when  he 
dug  his  crop,  he  carried  his  potatoes  as  a  present, 
of  his  own  rearing,  for  the  table  of  the  Emperor  his 
grandfather,  who  is  represented  as  being  very  fond 
of  him.  All  persons  about  the  palace  spoke  of  the 
youth  with  evident  attachment.  I  visited  his  apart- 
ments, they  were  plainly  furnished,  and  his  escritoir 


VIENNA.  173 

bore  marks  of  its  belonging  to  a  young  task-writing 
student.  I  saw  also  in  this  same  palace  the  small  se- 
cluded cabinet  occupied  by  Napoleon  himself,  where, 
as  the  old  servant,  who,  together  with  his  own  do- 
mestics, was  in  waiting  on  him  during  his  stay  at 
Schoenbrunn,  told  me,  he  was  wont  to  read  and 
write  for  hours  alone,  and  where  he  is  said  first  to 
have  seen  the  portrait  of  Maria  Louisa,  whom  he 
afterwards  demanded  for  his  bride. 

There  are  several  drawings  in  this  cabinet  which 
hung  in  it  at  that  time,  and  hang  there  still.  They 
are  executed  by  different  princesses  of  the  Austrian 
Imperial  family,  giving  proof  that  they  were  quiet 
in  their  tastes  and  pursuits  ;  and  they  must  have 
reproved  the  conqueror  every  time  he  looked  on 
them,  for  driving  away  so  happy  a  family  from  their 
favourite  residence. 

Almost  all  the  time  that  1  was  at  Vienna  young 
Napoleon  was  staying  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Pres- 
burg  with  the  Emperor,  and  I  sadly  feared  that  I 
should  have  no  opportunity  of  seeing  him.  He  came 
in,  however,  to  the  palace  in  the  city  for  two  or 
three  days  ;  and,  before  his  return,  an  event  occur- 
red which,  as  it  caused  him  to  appear  on  a  public 
occasion,  enabled  me  to  see  him  under  circumstances, 
to  my  cast  of  thought,  peculiarly  interesting.  News 
arrived  in  the  capital  that  the  worthy  King  of  Bava- 
ria had  died  most  suddenly.  The  usual  orders  were 
immediately  given  for  performing  funeral  ceremo- 
nies, in  honour  of  his  memory,  in  the  private  chapel 
of  the  palace.  The  young  Napoleon  and  a  brother 
of  the  Emperor,  being  the  only  members  of  the 
Imperial  family  present  in  the  city,  assisted  at  these 
honours.  There  was  a  vigil  service  the  first  even- 
ing, and  a  grand  mass  and  requiem  on  the  morrow. 
I  was  present  at  both  ;  the  court  only  at  the  first, 


174  VIENNA. 

In  the  centre  of  the  chapel  a  kingly  crown  and  a 
ducal  cap  lay  glittering  upon  a  black  pall,  which 
covered  a  raised  (pageant)  bier.  Innumerable  tall 
and  massive  church  candlesticks,  of  silver,  were 
ranged  around  the  bier ;  and  the  thick  pale  torches 
shed  on  it  their  white  and  sickly  rays.  A  row  of 
priests  stood,  with  their  clasped  hands  pointed  in 
prayer,  on  one  side  ;  a  rank  of  the  life  or  palace 
guards,  in  scarlet  clothing,  leaned  upon  their  halberts 
on  that  opposite.  At  the  head  of  the  bier,  some 
twenty  officers  of  the  Hungarian  grenadiers,  and  two 
or  three  hussar  officers,  who  accompanied  the  com- 
mander of  the  garrison,  stood  closely  grouped.  A 
few  persons  of  distinction  sat  in  private  pews,  in  a 
gallery  above,  that  have  glass  windows  looking  down 
into  the  chapel.  Among  these,  in  a  pew  by  himself, 
next  that  of  the  Emperor's  brother,  was  the  young 
Napoleon.  He  leaned  from  the  open  window  during 
the  service :  his  complexion  is  very  fair,  his  fore- 
head good,  the  lower  part  of  his  face  short  and 
rounded  ;  his  nose  not  very  prominent,  but  well- 
shaped.  The  colour  of  his  eyes  1  could  not  distin- 
guish, and,  except  for  moments,  saw  him  only  in 
profile  ;  but  he  impresses  you  as  a  very  good-looking, 
gentleman-like  boy,  with  an  appearance  and  manner 
somewhat  beyond  his  age.  His  hands  were  clasped 
together,  and  he  seemed  to  take  that  feeling  interest 
in  the  scene,  which  is  alike  natural  and  becoming 
in  a  youth  of  fifteen.  The  solemnity  of  the  service, 
and  the  sweetness  of  the  singing,  were,  perhaps,  the 
only  things  that  moved  or  occupied  his  young  mind; 
and  yet  it  is  more  than  probable  that  he  would  know, 
and  might,  at  such  a  moment,  have  remembered,  that, 
but  for  his  father,  these  obsequies  might  have  been 
electoral,  and  not  regal ;  that  the  kingly  crown  upon 


VIENNA.  175 

that  bier  was  the  gift  of  that  father,  when  he  decreed 
that  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  should  wear  one.  The 
regal  honours  and  powers  which  he  had  bestowed 
had  outlived  his  own,  even  in  life;  and  in  death  he 
himself  had  lain  down  in  the  grave  of  an  exile. 
The  son  might  remember,  that  no  such  requiem 
was  sung  over  the  distant  tomb  of  that  father ;  but 
that  the  enemies  who  had  guarded  him  living,  and 
who  could  not  deny  him  the  funeral  of  a  soldier, 
guarded  him  dead.  All  this  he  might  remember, 
and  might  secretly  vow  to  see  his  father's  bones  yet 
deposited  in  a  fitting  sepulchre.  I  admit,  however, 
that  all  this  is  not  very  probable  ;  for  I  learn  that  he 
is  bred  up  in  a  particularly  quiet  way,  is  little  on 
horseback,  and  seldom  or  ever  seen  among  the 
troops,  or  encouraged  in  any  martial  tastes.  Circum- 
stance, however,  brings  about  strange  and  miracu- 
lous changes  in,  or  rather  developments  of,  human 
character ;  and  the  stirring  trumpet  may  yet  sound, 
which  shall  awake  in  the  bosom  of  this  youth  the 
stern  and  ambitious  spirit  of  his  father. 

All  the  associations  of  thought  which  crowded  into 
my  mind  were  naturally  calculated  to  increase  the 
interest  of  the  scene.  There  was  something  inex- 
pressibly affecting  in  the  whole  picture.  A  jewelled 
crown  upon  a  black  pall !  How  mournfully  it  glitters  I 
— it  seems  to  tremble  !  The  meanest  beggar  present 
looks  on  it  with  no  envy  in  such  company.  There 
is  a  something,  too,  in  these  ceremonies  for  the 
dead,  to  me,  very  melancholy  and  grand,  arising  from 
the  mere  circumstance  of  the  age  and  fashion  of  the 
huge  and  massive  candlesticks  that  stand,  in  gleaming 
rows,  around  the  bier,  and  that  have  assisted,  on 
like  solemn  occasions,  for  so  many  centuries.  I 
thought  upon  the  rude  hunting-lodge  on  the  lone 
14 


176  PRESBURG. 

lake  of  Berchtolsgaden  ;  and  I  pitied, — though  it 
may  sound  wrong, — 1  pitied  the  poor  king,  to  have 
perished  out  of  so  still  and  sweet  a  possession.  It 
was  strange,  too,  to  look  upon  soldiers  of  Austria, 
who  had  so  often  seen  the  armies  of  Bavaria  arrayed 
against  them  in  the  field,  paying  these  honours  to 
the  memory  of  Bavaria's  king ;  and  unsatingly  delight- 
ful to  see  the  child  of  the  mightiest  and  most  won- 
derful conqueror  of  our  age  kneeling  in  prayer,  with 
a  heart,  perhaps,  tender  as  his  young  fair  cheek. 
This  day  alone  would  have  rewarded  my  journey 
from  England  ;  but  I  had  yet  another  scene  of  inte- 
rest in  reserve  :  I  was  determined  to  pass  one  day 
at  Presburg,  for  the  chance  of  being  present  at  a 
sitting  of  the  Hungarian  Deputies. 

The  distance  from  Vienna  to  Presburg  is  only 
forty  English  miles,  and  a  most  excellent  eilwagen 
traverses  it  in  little  more  than  five  hours.  The  first 
night  I  could  not  get  a  bed,  the  town  was  so  full  ; 
but  they  gave  me  as  good  a  shake-down  in  one  of 
the  numerous  supper-rooms  as  they  could  contrive. 
I  took  my  supper,  however,  in  the  large  salle, 
which  was  crowded  with  the  same  sort  of  figures 
you  meet  in  all  the  coffee-houses  of  Vienna  :  a  loud 
band  at  the  door,  and  loud  voices  in  the  salle,  strug- 
gled for  the  mastery ;  and  1  was  not  sorry  to  escape 
soon  from  "both  to  my  paillasse.  Here,  amid  the 
expiring  fumes  of  spilled  wine  of  Ofen,  and  pipe- 
ashes,  near  a  table  with  the  gravy-stained  cloth  yet 
on  it,  and  the  empty  salad-bowl  by  its  side,  I  fell 
sound  asleep.  My  domestique  de  place,  a  most  active 
and  intelligent  man,  whom  I  brought  with  me  from 
Vienna,  had  watched  the  earliest  departure,  and,  by 
seven  o'clock  the  following  morning,  I  was  transfer- 
red to  a  clean,  comfortable  bed-chamber.    It  is  but 


PRESBURG.  177 

forty  miles  from  Vienna  to  Presburg;  but  if  the  tra- 
veller will  only  walk,  at  an  early  hour,  to  the  large 
upper  market,  he  may  fancy  himself  four  hundred 
from  any  spot  so  civilized.  There  is  an  abundant 
supply  of  provisions  of  all  sorts ;  but  they  are  all 
clumsily  and  coarsely  displayed  ;  there  is  no  attempt 
at  disposing  them  to  advantage,  or  invitingly :  the 
women  behind  the  heaps,  or  stalls,  are  ill  clad,  mas- 
culine, and  unclean.  The  Hungarian  peasant  has  a 
thick,  stout,  blue  jacket,  a  strong,  heavy,  shapeless 
boot,  uncombed  hair,  and  a  broad-brimmed  hat  with 
a  low  rounded  crown.  Mixed  with  these,  in  very 
large  numbers,  are  the  Sclavonian  peasants;  and, 
not  the  least  remarkable  feature  in  the  scene,  on  a 
wide  dusty  space  near  the  market  stand  some  hun- 
dreds of  rude  waggons,  drawn  by  small  wild-looking 
horses.  It  is  impossible  that,  in  the  day  when  the 
Roman  made  war  in  Illyria,  the  Sclavonian  peasant 
could  have  been  in  garb,  in  aspect,  in  manners, 
more  completely  the  barbarian  than  to  the  eye  he 
still  seems ;  nor  could  the  waggon  in  a  Scythian 
camp  have  been  a  ruder  thing  than  any  of  those 
still  crowded  together  in  the  markets  at  Presburg. 
I  observed  one  of  the  Sclavonians,  a  very  old  man, 
with  grey  hairs,  which  hung,  nevertheless,  as  lank, 
and  waved  as  wild  as  the  blackest,  buying  food  at  a 
stall  where  they  sold  provisions  ready  dressed.  He 
handled  a  dozen  different  pieces  of  meat  or  poultry, 
and,  at  last,  carried  off  the  quarter  of  a  large  coarse 
goose,  to  tear  it,  dog-like,  in  a  corner. 

The  man  who  does  not  feel  sorrow  when  he  sees 
fellow-creatures  thus  degraded, — who  does  not  feel 
humbled  himself  at  the  sight, — who  does  not  wish 
to  see  their  moral  and  political  condition  improved, 
—and  to  see  the  blessings   of  civil  and  religious 


178  PRESBURG. 

liberty  widely  diffused  throughout  the  world, — is  a 
man  I  pity.  "  Pshaw  I"  says  a  man  of  the  world, 
"  it  is  their  lot,  their  condition,  my  good  Sir.  They 
are  very  well  off,  and  very  happy.  Did  not  you  see 
that  old  fellow  with  the  leg  of  a  goose  ?  what  would 
you  have  ?  And  here  again,  as  I  live,  there  are  a 
dozen  or  too  of  these  wretched  Sclavonians  of  yours 
dancing, — as  I  live,  dancing  /" — Yes,  they  dance  I 
When  a  few  paltry  pence  were  given  them,  at  the 
door  of  an  hotel,  for  some  labour  they  had  perform- 
ed, they  danced,  shook  their  matted  locks,  and  lifted 
their  heavy  feet,  and  showed  their  white  teeth,  and 
sung  something  too  wild  to  be  called  a  song ! 

It  is  not  exactly  in  passing  from  a  scene  like  this 
that  the  traveller  is  prepared  to  be  very  much  en- 
raptured with  the  free  Diet  of  Hungary.  In  the 
hall,  however,  of  the  Hungarian  Deputies,  it  is  im- 
possible not  to  feel  a  momentary  delight,  the  pic- 
ture is  so  new  and  so  startling.  I  sat  in  the  gallery, 
whither  I  went  at  an  early  hour ;  but  it  was  filled  to 
suffocation  before  the  members  took  their  seats. 

The  hall  is  nothing  remarkable,  merely  a  long, 
lofty  chamber.  A  chair  is  raised  on  a  step  at  the 
upper  end,  for  the  president.  Tables  run  the  whole 
length  of  the  hall,  covered  with  green  cloth,  and 
supplied  abundantly  with  materials  for  writing.  Im- 
mediately below,  and  to  the  right  of  the  president, 
sat  such  bishops  and  dignitaries  of  the  church  as 
have  seats  in  this  assembly.  The  rest  of  the  mem- 
bers, and  there  appeared  to  be  more  than  three 
hundred  present,  wore  the  national  dress  of  Hunga- 
ry. It  consists  of  a  hussar  jacket  and  pantaloon,  of 
brown  cloth,  and  a  hussar  boot.  The  ornaments  are 
of  black  silk  lace,  plain,  warlike,  and  becoming.  A 
very  few,  indeed,  were  sheeted  in  gold  lace,  and  a 


PRESBURG.  179 

few  more  wore  a  tassel  of  gold  bullion  on  the  boot, 
and  a  gold  cord  fastening  the  pelisse.  The  reason 
of  this  difference  I  learned  to  be,  that  some  were 
actually  in  the  military  service  ;  and  the  tassel  and 
cord  of  others  were  little  vain  additions,  which  men 
dandified  by  residence  in  Vienna  had  ventured  to  as- 
sume :  but  nothing  could  be  more  plain,  or  in  better 
taste,  than  the  costume  of  the  many.  There  was  a 
spur  on  every  heel,  a  sword  on  every  thigh,  and  by 
the  side  of  every  man,  on  the  table  at  which  he  sat, 
stood  the  kalpac,  with  its  rich  brown  fur,  and  that 
falling  top  of  crimson  cloth,  which,  when,  in  former 
times,  the  Hungarian  galloped  to  the  field,  flew 
bravely  in  the  wind,  giving  life  and  menace  to  his 
motion.  It  is  impossible  to  gaze  down  without  in- 
terest on  this  belted  assembly,  the  descendants  of  a 
race  of  warriors  ever  ready  to  leap  into  their  sad- 
dles,— in  fact,  the  vanguard  of  Europe  against  the 
Turk. 

I  cordially  hate  the  Turk,  not  because  he  is  a  Ma- 
hometan ;  I  am  not  so  wretched  or  so  narrow-mind- 
ed a  Christian  as  that;  but  because  all  of  him  that 
is  not  slave  is  tyrant ;  because  he  would  (if  he  could) 
bring  back  upon  the  earth  a  moral  darkness. 

I  must  admit,  indeed,  that  the  Hungarian  has 
something  of  the  tyrant  in  him, — a  haughtiness  got- 
ten centuries  ago,  on  horseback ;  and  that  he  has,  in 
his  day,  lorded  it  among  his  vassals,  as  did  the  barons 
of  our  own  country  (blessings  on  their  memory,  ne- 
vertheless !)  in  the  days  of  King  John  :  but  when 
we  reflect  that  the  nobles  and  privileged  classes  of 
Hungary  form,  at  least,  a  twentieth  part  of  her  po- 
pulation ;  that,  upon  the  whole,  that  population  has 
generally  been  found  attached  to  them  ;  and  that  the 
Diet  of  Hungary  has  often  resisted  and  defied  the 
14* 


180  PRESBURG. 

crown  of  Austria,  we  cannot  say  that  it  is  composed 
of  slaves.  No  longer,  indeed,  can  they  be  said  to 
defy  the  crown ;  and  in  the  consciousness,  perhaps, 
that  they  have  sunk  nearer  to  the  people,  so  they 
feel  more  with  them,  and  raise  their  voices  more 
loudly  for  them. 

The  debate  was  carried  on  in  Latin :  numbers 
spoke,  and,  in  general,  they  had  a  ready  and  fluent 
command  of  language,  and  a  very  animated  and  man- 
ly delivery.  Few  of  their  speeches  were  more  than 
ten  minutes  in  length,  and  the  greater  part  still 
shorter.  It  is  true  that,  as  it  has  seldom  fallen  to  my 
lot  to  hear  Latin  spoken  since,  as  a  youth,  I  listened 
to  declamations,  I  cannot  pretend  to  speak  to  the 
classical  correctness  of  expressions,  or  the  construc- 
tion of  sentences ;  but  thus  far  I  can  say,  it  was  not  a 
bald,  meagre,  thin  Latin  ;  and  many  of  the  sentences 
fell  richly  rounded  on  my  ear.  There  was  one 
churchman,  an  abbot  (I  think),  who  spoke  rapidly, 
bitterly,  and  very  well ;  and  there  was  an  elderly 
deputy  with  grey  hairs,  who  replied  to  him  most 
eloquently,  with  a  fire  and  a  freedom  that  surprised 
me.  I  could  not  get  fully  at  the  subject,  but  it  was 
some  question  connected  with  a  tax  that  had  been 
imposed,  under  the  late  viceroy,  on  salt,  and  that 
was  felt  and  complained  of  by  the  people.  This 
fine  old  Hungarian,  in  the  course  of  his  speech, 
dwelt  proudly  upon  the  ancient  privileges  of  his 
country,  and  complained  that  the  spirit  of  them  had 
been  greatly  invaded  during  the  late  lieutenancy. 
His  loyal  expressions  towards  the  person  and  family 
of  the  Emperor  were  warm,  and  seemed  to  be  sin- 
cere ;  but  he  returned,  quite  as  bitterly,  to  his  attack 
on  the  measure  on  which  he  sought  to  impeach  the 
minister  j  and,  in  one  part,  where  he  was  more  par- 


PRESBURG.  181 

-ticularly  pleading  the  cause  of  the  people,  he  cried 
out,  with  animation,  "  Vox  populi^  Vox  Dei!"  It 
electrified  the  whole  assembly.  There  were  many 
loud  "  Vivats  .'"  not  only  among  the  deputies  them- 
selves, but  also  from  almost  all  the  persons  in  the 
gallery. 

For  a  brief  moment  I  might  have  fancied  myself 
in  a  free  assembly,  but  the  calm,  complacent  smile 
upon  the  features  of  a  keen-looking  president,  who 
is  the  representative  of  the  crown,  reminded  me  that 
there  was  a  bridle  upon  the  Hungarian  steed,  and, 
although  he  is  suffered  to  prance  loftily  in  pride  and 
beauty,  and  to  fancy  as  he  gallops  that  he  is  running 
far  and  away,  his  rider  sits  laughingly  at  ease  in  the 
saddle,  and  knows  better. 

The  illusion  is  still  more  completely  dissipated  at 
the  doors  of  this  assembly  ;  no  fiery  horses  stand 
saddled  and  neighing  for  their  masters,  but  a  long 
row  of  mean  open  carriages,  each,  however,  with  a 
hussar  behind  them,  wait  tamely  in  the  street,  and 
such  of  the  spurred  members  as  have  one  get  slow- 
ly into  it,  loll  indolently  back,  and  are  driven  to 
their  lodgings.  This,  it  will  be  observed,  was  a 
meeting  of  the  Second  Chamber;  a  holding  of  the 
full  Diet,  where  the  Magnates  attend,  I  was  not  for- 
tunate enough  to  see,  and  I  am  still  left,  in  spite  of 
all  descriptions,  a  little  in  doubt  as  to  the  picture  it 
would  actually  present :  magnificent  it  may  be,  yet, 
methinks,  judging  from  what  I  did  see,  the  splendor 
has  been  somewhat  exaggerated, — that  of  the  Guard 
Noble  undoubtedly  is.  They  have  good,  but  not 
remarkable  horses.  The  hussar  dress  of  scarlet  and 
silver  is  rich  and  dazzling ;  and,  as  they  ride  down 
to  mount  guard,  to  see  them  followed  by  a  train  of 
orderlies  mounted,  and  with  led  horses,  (although 


182  PRESBURG. 

the  pelisses  of  these  orderlies  were  old,  and  of  rusty 
green,  and  the  horses  might  have  been  turned  out 
in  higher  order,)  has  an  appearance  somewhat  im- 
posing. But  the  young  men  composing  this  corps 
differ  in  size,  figure,  and  carriage,  and  scarce  look 
like  soldiers  by  the  side  of  the  old  Austrian  cuiras- 
siers. A  regiment  of  these  last  lay  in  garrison  here, 
and  some  strong  battalions  of  infantry,  consisting  en- 
tirely of  men  from  the  Italian  provinces  of  the  em- 
pire. So  much  for  the  Houses  of  Lords  and  Com- 
mons at  Presburg,  and  for  the  chance  of  free  discus- 
sion in  the  kingdom  of  Hungary. 

The  theatre  was  crowded  in  the  evening,  well 
lighted,  and  the  company  well  dressed,  and  looking 
sufficiently  brilliant.  There  was  also  a  circus  open 
for  the  exhibition  of  horsemanship  :  the  performers 
were  from  Cracow.  I  looked  in,  and  saw  not  a 
shade  of  difference  in  their  exhibitions  from  those 
given  at  Astley's. 

The  town  of  Presburg  is  not  at  all  remarkable 
either  in  its  buildings  or  streets ;  the  suburbs  are 
open,  cheerful,  and  far  cleaner.  The  Danube  rolls 
past  of  a  noble  width,  and  the  skeleton  of  a  square 
castle,  once  stately  from  its  size,  and  the  loftiness  of 
its  site,  still  crowns  the  hill  above  the  city. 

The  church  where  the  coronation  takes  place  is 
not  large,  or  handsome  ;  but  over  the  grand  altar  is 
a  fine  equestrian  statue  of  St.  Martin,  who  is  repre- 
sented, while  his  horse  is  prancing  to  the  rein,  di- 
viding his  cloak  with  a  sabre,  according  to  the  le- 
gend. It  forms  a  most  appropriate  altar-piece,  in 
reference  to  those  days,  when  Hungary  was  a  king- 
dom of  warriors  on  horseback.  Perhaps  the  most 
interesting  feature  about  Presburg  was  the  presence 
of  so  many  old  Hungarian  nobles  of  the  second  class, 


PRESBURG.  183 

from  the  country  and  the  upper  provinces.  Their 
grave  and  staid  appearance,  the  females  of  their  fa- 
milies in  unfashionable  dresses,  and  the  rough  old 
hussars  in  their  service,  whose  pelisses,  like  their 
masters,  looked  old  enough  to  have  seen  and  battled 
against  the  Turk,  gave  me,  especially  one  family,  a 
picture  I  should  despair  of  describing. 

One  youthful  and  gentlemanlike-like  looking  man, 
who  must  have  often  ridden  in  Hyde  Park,  by  his 
dress,  his  horse,  and  the  quietness  of  his  manner 
and  style  of  riding,  followed,  though  in  plain  clothes, 
by  his  hussar,  and  who  looked  hard  at  me,  with  a 
great,  and  civil,  but  hesitating  anxiety,  as  though  he 
would  wish  to  speak,  yet  knew  not  exactly  why,  I 
guessed  to  be  some  young  Hungarian  of  birth,  who 
had  been  attached  to  the  Austrian  embassy  in  Lon- 
don. Another,  an  older  man,  polite,  and  speaking 
English  very' well,  leaned  over  from  his  box  at  the 
theatre,  entered  agreeably  and  freely  into  conversa- 
tion, and  promised  me  an  invitation  to  a  grand  ball, 
at  which  all  the  Magnates  were  to  be  present,  a  few 
days  afterwards.  This  kindness  1  could  not  avail 
myself  of;  I  was  pressed  for  time,  and  returned  to 
Vienna  on  the  morrow. 

As  I  approached  Vienna,  on  my  return  from  Pres- 
burg,  rolling  rapidly  along  a  commodious  road  in  a 
neat,  well-varnished,  well-padded  eilwagen,  it  was 
strange  to  reflect  that,  little  more  than  a  century 
ago,  "  Tartar,  and  Spahi,  and  Turcoman,"  were 
skirmishing  over  the  plains  around,  that  janisaries 
lay  encamped  on  the  beautiful  banks  of  the  Danube, 
and  the  camel  of  Arabia  was  planting  his  spongy 
foot  in  my  present  track. 

I  am  sure,  to  look  into  the  Prater  of  Vienna,  the 
Turk  seems  to  have  as  little  business  near  it  as  near 


184  VIENNA. 

Hyde  Park,  or  Kensington  Gardens;  yet,  so  it  was  - 
yesterday, — a  mere  yesterday,  in  the  records  of  his- 
tory. At  that  memorable  period  a  few  discontented 
and  haughty  nobles  of  Hungary  made  them  feel, 
throughout  x\ustria,  the  full  value  of  the  services 
which  the  Hungarian  had  so  often  rendered  them 
against  the  Ottoman,  by  forgetting  their  duty  as 
Christians,  and  their  fidelity  as  subjects.  Will  it 
ever  occur,  that  hateful  sight, — the  Crescent  glitter- 
ing before  the  walls  of  Vienna?  Would  the  Greek 
pity  them  ?  Methinks  not.  That  they  will  in  all 
probability  be  safe  from  such  a  visitation  they  will 
not  owe  to  the  wisdom  of  their  own  government,  but 
to  that  higher  government  which  mocks  the  short- 
sighted contrivances  of  all  human  policy.  The 
power  of  the  Ottoman  empire  has  reached  another 
turning  point,  and  in  spite  of  all  Christian  propping, 
looks  as  though  it  tottered  towards  a  fall. 

The  Prater  is  a  great  feature  at  Vienna.  The 
capital  was  not  very  full.  During  my  stay,  I  never 
saw  more  than  from  four  hundred  to  six  hundred 
carriages  on  the  drive  ;  and  it  was  rather  too  late  in 
the  season  for  reposing  on  grass,  and  under  the  shade 
of  trees  in  the  evening.  But  it  is  a  fair  and  pleasant 
sight  to  see  the  whole  of  the  respectable  and  middle 
classes  of  Vienna  walking  in  family  groups,  and  pre- 
senting to  your  eye,  in  good  clothes,  healthy  looks, 
and  calmly  smiling  faces,  many  clear  indications  of 
an  active  and  rewarded  industry,  easy  circumstances, 
and  a  thankful  enjoyment  of  them. 

The  English  traveller,  however,  forgets  not  that, 
within  these  twenty  years,  this  pleasure-park  has 
been  twice  visited  by  enemies.  That  the  Prater 
was  a  busy  bivouac,  that  the  sulphurous  clouds  of 
battle  have  rolled  near  it,  and  that  the  dying  and  the 


VIENNA.  185 

wounded  have  lain  scattered  under  the  shade  of 
those  trees  where  music,  and  the  song,  and  the  jest, 
are  now  again  the  familiar  sounds :  you  could  not  stop 
many  families  on  their  walk  there  at  this  hour  who 
would  not  have  some  little  domestic  tragedy  of  that 
period  to  relate  to  you. 

Although  the  loyalty  of  the  helpless  inhabitants  of 
Vienna  was  never  for  a  moment  concealed,  even  af- 
ter their  city  was  possessed  by  the  French,  yet  they 
speak  well  of  the  conduct  of  Napoleon,  and  of  the 
discipline  of  his  troops.  The  Itinerary  of  Reichard, 
to  awaken,  I  suppose,  the  feelings  and  indignation  of 
the  traveller,  records,  that  "  the  tame  stags  in  the 
Prater  were  all  killed  by  the  French  soldiers  in  1809." 
An  old  campaigner  may  be  pardoned  for  suspecting 
that  the  Austrian  yager  and  the  Hungarian  hussar 
had  their  share  of  the  venison.  By  some  easy  ar- 
rangement this  loss  has  been  repaired.  A  little  be- 
yond the  head  of  the  more  public  drive  the  deer 
come  lightly  up  to  the  passer-by,  with  a  pretty  un- 
wondering  tameness  ;  and  it  is  a  pastime,  they  tell 
me,  with  young  Napoleon,  when  resident  in  or  near 
the  capital,  to  visit  the  haunt  of  these  beautiful  ani- 
mals most  evenings,  and  to  watch  them  at  their  play. 

During  my  stay  at  Vienna  there  were  no  public 
concerts,  neither  was  there  an  opera  that  season  ;  so 
that  I  only  heard  their  fine  military  bands,  the  pieces 
executed  by  their  various  orchestras  at  the  theatres, 
the  excellent  choir  of  St.  Stephen's,  and  the  never- 
to-be-forgotten  requiem  at  the  palace  chapel.  Judg- 
ing from  these  things  alone,  I  may  err ;  but  I  should 
say  that  the  Germans  feel  music  very  deeply, — that 
it  profoundly  affects  them.  They  do  not,  like  the 
Italians,  hum  every  note  they  hear;  but,  though 
they  pass  away  in  silence,  they  carry  the  melody  in 


186  VIENNA. 

their  heart.  The  eye  of  the  Italian,  when  he  lis- 
tens, sparkles ;  the  eye  of  the  German  is  not  unfre- 
quently  dim  with  that  rising  tear  which  does  never 
fall,  but  marks  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  heart's  tide. 
The  Italian  is  mercurial  and  imitative  ;  the  air 
which  is  running  in  his  head  he  must  warble  as  he 
goes,  for  want  of  thought.  In  the  German,  music 
does  a  deeper  work ;  it  reaches  the  centre  and 
source  of  feeling,  and  awakens  thoughts  which  can- 
not be  indulged  otherwise  than  in  silence.  Here, 
too,  I  would  remark,  and  the  connexion  of  the  sub- 
jects is  admissible,  that  the  Roman  Catholic  of  Ger- 
many in  his  church  seems  quite  another  being  from 
that  of  Italy  ;  and  the  character  which  Goldsmith 
has  so  beautifully  and  faithfully  given  of  the  latter 
applies  in  nothing  to  the  German.  He  is  seldom 
careless  or  irreverent  at  the  mass,  seldom  timid,  or 
formal,  or  slavish*,  in  his  acts  of  devotion.  There  is 
a  something  staid  in  his  outward  performances  ;  but 
"  the  soul's  sincere  desire"  is  perceptible,  and  plain- 
ly so,  in  the  expression  of  his  countenance,  when  en- 
gaged in  prayer. 

I  know  many  of  my  readers  will  exclaim,  "  This 
is  all  fancy  :  you  deceive  j^ourself  willingly,  accord- 
ing to  the  frame  of  your  mind,  and  the  tone  of  your 
reflections  at  the  moment." — Really,  I  think  simply 
what  I  say  :  appearances,  generally,  are  all  I  pre- 
tend, as  a  traveller,  to  examine, — are  almost  the 
only  guides  of  my  judgment ;  and,  I  must  say,  speak- 
ing from  long  personal  experience,  and  frequent 
comparison  of  my  own  hasty  inferences  with  those 
of  persons  far  better  qualified  to  judge,  I  do  not  think 
that  the  eye  is  so  unfaithful  an  interpreter  to  the 
traveller  as  many  imagine. 

The  interior  of  domestic  circles  in  Vienna  I  did 


VIENNA^  187 

not  see  :  few,  very  few  travellers  do.  It  is  by  no 
means  difficult  for  an  English  gentleman  to  obtain 
introduction  to  the  large  and  public  assemblies  of 
the  higher  circles  :  but  these  can  have  little  of  cha- 
racter in  their  aspect ;  and  I  felt  little  disappointed 
that  there  were  none  held  at  the  season  of  my  visit. 
I  own  I  should  have  greatly  coveted  admission  to 
those  private  circles  where  families  meet  in  quie- 
tude, and  are  fond  of  music,  peace,  and  each  other. 
That  Vienna  contains  many  such  I  have  no  doubt; 
for  although  the  quietism  of  small  parties  is  not  so 
much  the  taste  in  Vienna  as  in  the  north,  yet,  all 
over  Germany,  numbers  of  respectable  families  are 
to  be  found,  where  those  tastes  are  quietly  indulged, 
which  minister  to  innocent  delight,  and  on  which  it 
is  seldom  the  privilege  of  a  stranger  even  to  gaze. 
In  speaking  of  music,  I  should  observe,  that  from 
many  things  which  I  saw,  and  from  many  inquiries 
which  I  made,  I  am  of  opinion,  as  I  have  ever  been, 
that  there  is  nowhere  on  the  Continent,  not  even  in 
Germany,  so  much  parlour  and  drawing  room  enjoy- 
ment of  it  as  in  England.  The  music,  where  you 
have  it,  is  better,  perhaps ;  but  then  it  is  more  of  a 
public  amusement.  If  you  examine  the  long  lists  of 
amateurs  abroad,  you  will  find  a  count  and  a  cobbler 
on  the  same  page  ;  and  in  the  concert  saloons  there 
is  collected,  on  a  momentary  equality,  all  the  musi- 
cal talent  which  men  and  women,  of  all  classes,  can 
contribute  :  but  such  is  the  happy  structure  of  our 
society  in  England,  that  in  any  considerable  city  you 
may  knock  at  twenty  different  doors,  and  find  a  well- 
toned  instrument  in  the  music-room,  with  its  fair  at- 
tendance of  gentle  and  accomplished  performers. 
The  like  you  might  do  at  almost  every  decent  coua- 
15 


188  VIENNA. 

try-seat;  and,  if  you  speak  of  London,  the  thought 
startles  you. 

On  the  other  hand,  for  one  English  gentleman  who 
plays  the  flute,  Germany  has  a  hundred.  If  you 
meet  two  fine  young  officers  walking  together,  you 
know  that  they  can  go  to  their  barrack-room  and 
play  a  duet :  if  you  see  a  solitary,  handsome,  lover- 
like looking  officer  of  cuirassiers  riding  slowly  at 
the  garden  of  Schonbrunn  (and  I  remember  me  of 
such  a  one),  you  know  that  he  has  got  his  flute  at 
home  to  feed  his  flame,  or  to  discourse  for  him  to 
the  mistress  of  his  heart :  but,  with  regard  to  a  ge- 
neral cultivation  of  music  among  the  females  in  Ger- 
many, as  an  accomplishment,  it  is  not  so  extensive  a 
practice  as  we  imagine,  although,  perhaps,  German 
ladies  are,  in  this  respect,  far  more  widely  taught 
than  the  indolent  dames  of  Italy. 

All  Germans  whom  I  have  met,  who  had  been 
much  in  society  in  England,  and  in  good  society,  ex- 
pressed themselves  alike  surprised  and  charmed  with 
the  many  sweet  attractions  of  our  private  circles, 
arising  from  the  accomplishments,  the  talents,  and 
the  graces  of  our  women.  But  to  the  eye,  many 
things  reveal  the  mode  of  life  of  circles  which  you 
do  not  enter.  1  like,  in  foreign  cities,  to  stand  in 
the  market-places,  lounge  near  shops  of  furniture, 
jewellery,  toys,  and  fill  up  the  frame-work  of  pri- 
vate houses  thence. 

In  all  comforts  Vienna  abounds  :  I  should  think  a 
winter  and  spring  there  delightful ;  and  although  the 
Viennese  speak  impure  German,  yet  to  the  learner 
of  German,  who  might,  of  course,  find  a  first-rate 
master,  a  regular  attendance  at  such  a  theatre  as 
that  of  Vienna  would  be  an  incalculable  advantage. 
It  is  not,  however,  necessary  to  talk  German  to  re- 


VIENNA  189 

side  in  this  capital ;  French  is  universally  spoken  ; 
Italian  is  common.  Metastasio  passed  a  life  here ; 
and  his  vocabulary  of  German  did  not  exceed  twenty 
words,  which  he  only  learned,  as  he  declared,  to  save 
his  life.  He  always  professed  the  greatest  aversion 
and  contempt  for  the  language,  the  meaning  of  which 
every  one  knows  to  be  in  his,  and  in  all  like  cases, 
a  consciousness  of  inaptitude  to  master  its  pronun- 
ciation, and  conquer  its  difficulties. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  political  degradation 
of  the  Viennese  is  extreme :  not  being  allowed 
either  to  lift  up  the  voice  or  employ  the  pen  upon 
the  subject  of  politics,  they  have  become  naturally 
indifferent  to  all  public  acts  which  do  not  personally 
affect  them,  and,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  most 
ignorant  about  them.  They  cannot  answer  your 
questions  on  the  most  common  measures  relating  to 
their  internal  policy  ;  and  they  smile  to  see  your 
curiosity  and  eagerness  about  matters  which  they 
leave,  without  one  sigh  of  regret,  to  be  ordered  and 
controlled  by  a  cabinet  that  works  in  darkness. 

There  is  a  very  strict  police  in  Vienna ;  but  it 
does  not  and  has  no  occasion  to  trouble  itself  with 
the  inhabitants.  As  to  foreigners,  with  the  excep- 
tion, perhaps,  of  English,  the  eye  is  ever  on  them. 
English  sentiments  are  known, — by  contented  slaves 
are  laughed  at,  and  ridiculed  just  as  heartily  as  the 
government  might  desire, — by  thinking  men  are 
respected  in  silence,  and  without  notice.  There  is 
no  necessity  to  follow  about  an  Englishman,  and 
learn  what  he  says,  or  to  open  his  letters,  and  see 
what  he  writes.  If,  indeed,  he  is  found  in  close  in- 
timacy with  suspected  foreigners,  or  if  he  obtrudes 
his  opinion  in  public  places,  with  an  evident  desire 
to  disturb  the  tranquillity  of  society,  and  to  awaken 


190  VIENNA. 

among  contented  subjects  feelings  of  hostility  to  the 
measures  of  their  cabinet,  he  must  expect  what  he 
deserves, — an  order  to  quit  the  city.  But  the  Eng- 
lish appear  to  me,  wherever  I  have  been  on  the 
Continent,  and  at  Vienna  as  elsewhere,  to  enjoy  a 
very  remarkable  exemption  from  all  petty  persecu- 
tions. They  may  express  their  opinions  freely,  and 
maintain  them  quietly  in  the  common  course  of  con- 
versation, when  the  topics  naturally  call  them  forth  ; 
they  may  go  to  a  casino,  where  they  will  find  The 
Morning  Chronicle  for  perusal ;  and  they  may  give 
it,  if  they  like,  the  rumple  of  approbation  when 
they  alight  on  any  well-penned  passage  against 
Prince  Metternich  and  the  Holy  Alliance.  They 
may  walk,  ride,  and  drive  about  the  city,  in  every 
direction,  with  the  regular  Bull  look, — 

"  Pride  in  their  port,  defiance  in  their  eye :" 

nor  will  they  find  themselves,  at  their  hotel,  charged 
one  dollar  more  than  the  submiss  Austrian,  for  being 
the  lords  of  human  kind.  But  there  is  one  thing 
they  must  not  do  ; — they  must  not,  by  mistake,  lay 
their  cane  across  the  shoulders  of  a  hackney-coach- 
man in  Stephen-Platz,  for  the  Jarvey  here  is  quite 
as  independent  a  personage  as  his  brother-whip  in 
St.  Paul's  Church-yard,  and  will,  as  some  English- 
men of 'rank  can  testify,  most  assuredly  return  the 
blow.  1  have  my  doubts  if  this  privilege  would  not 
pass  muster  for  the  fair  Goddess  of  Liberty  herself, 
with  many  of  our  ill-taught  mob-patriots  at  home. 
The  nobles  of  Vienna,  however,  never  come,  in  any 
way,  in  rude  contact  with  the  people,  and  never 
disturb  them  by  their  pride.  With  no  political 
power,  with  no  public  duties,  they  are  merely  a 


VIENNA.  191 

class  elevated  in  rank  and  possessions :  their  titles, 
their  wealth,  and  some  inconsequent  privileges, 
alone,  but  jet  widely,  separate  them  from  the  peo- 
ple, for  whom,  indeed,  they  can  do  little  but  open 
their  gardens  and  their  galleries,  for  lighter  hearts 
than  their  own  to  enjoy.  There  is  a  something  of 
military  pomp,  a  something  of  feudal  display,  among 
these  nobles,  when  resident  on  their  wide  estates, 
which  may,  for  a  moment,  dazzle  even  the  English- 
man :  but  they  sink  into  utter  insignificance  in  his 
estimation,  when  compared  with  the  aristocracy  of 
his  native  country.  The  duties  of  British  peers 
are,  indeed,  pre-eminently  glorious :  they  are  at 
once  guardians  of  the  rights  and  the  liberty  of  the 
people, — of  the  privileges  and  the  dignity  of  the 
crown  ;  while  the  Austrian  noble  has  no  liberty  of 
his  own,  and  no  dignity  beyond  the  sound  of  a  title 
and  the  glitter  of  a  star. 

I  have  not  noticed  many  things  in  Vienna  which 
travellers  are  always  taken  to  see,  and  which  any 
guide-book  will  indicate :  but  I  must  not  leave  the 
city  without  mention  of  the  church  and  convent  of 
the  Capuchins,  where,  in  a  low  dark  vault,  lie  the 
remains  of  all  the  Imperial  house  of  Austria,  from 
the  days  of  the  Emperor  Matthias.  The  coffins  are 
very  large,  and  of  bronze,  those  of  the  earliest  date 
perfectly  plain,  others  wrought  with  trophies  and 
achievements.  A  Capuchin  lights  a  taper,  and  con- 
ducts you  round  them :  he  tells  the  tale  of  each  in 
monkish  Latin,  and  with  a  monkish  tone  ;  and,  at  the 
frequent  pause,  he  rings  his  knuckle  on  each  bronze 
chest,  as  if  the  bones  within  could  confirmingly  re- 
ply. The  largest,  most  decorated,  and  stately  of 
these,  (indeed  it  is  a  tomb,  and  not  a  mere  coffin,) 
is  that  of  Maria  Theresa.  He  tells  you  how  she 
15* 


192  VIENNA. 

caused  it  to  be  erected  during  her  life,  and  how  she 
was  wont  to  visit  and  descend  into  this  vault,  and 
pass  long  hours  in  it  alone,  in  prayer  and  meditation. 
Madame  de  Stael  has  finely  observed  upon  this : — 
"  II  y  a  beaucoup  oVexemples  cPune  devotion  serieuse  et 
constante  parmi  les  souverains  de  la  terre :  comme  ils 
tfob'eissent  qifa  la  mort,  son  irresistible  pouvoir  lesfrap- 
pe  davantage.  Les  difficultes  de  la  vie  se  placent  Gntre 
nous  et  la  tombe  ;  tout  est  aplani  pour  les  rois  jusqu^au 
terme,  et  cela  meme  le  rend  plus  visible  H  leurs  yeux" 

The  finest  monument  in  Vienna  is  that  to  the 
memory  of  the  Archduchess  Christina,  in  the  church 
of  the  Augustines :  the  work  is  Canova's.  There 
are  no  less  than  eight  figures  in  the  composition. 
As  a  mere  group  of  statues,  a  creation  of  the  sculp- 
tor, I  admired  it  greatly  ;  but,  as  a  monumental  me- 
morial, I  regard  it  cumbrous  and  overdone.  I  should 
think  that  the  noble  and  grand  simplicity  of  Cano- 
va's taste  was  compelled  to  yield  to  the  affectionate 
but  unfortunate  wishes  of  his  employer,  who  desired 
a  work  vast  and  costly.  His  noble  group  of  The- 
seus killing  the  Minotaur  adorns  this  city,  and  stands 
in  a  temple  on  the  Grecian  model,  erected  on  pur- 
pose to  contain  it.  It  is  wretchedly  placed,  in  a  low 
situation,  near  the  ramparts :  it  should  stand  alone 
in  some  park  or  garden,  like  the  famous  Toro  Far- 
nese  at  Naples. 

It  is  a  very  great  delight  at  Vienna  that  the  ar- 
rangements at  the  museums,  galleries,  palaces,  and, 
in  fine,  at  all  places,  where  any  thing  of  interest  is 
exhibited,  are  the  most  liberal  and  convenient.  All 
travellers  have  remarked,  with  something  of  pain 
and  indignation,  that  this  city  contains  no  monuments 
of  princely  or  public  gratitude  to  the  memory  of 
those  great  men  who  have  rendered  services  to  Aus- 


VIENNA.  193 

tria.  In  a  despotic  state  such  marks  of  honour  can 
alone  be  given  by  the  sovereign.  Maria  Theresa 
erected  a  tomb  to  Marshal  Daun,  and  a  monument  to 
the  memory  of  Van  Swieten,  which  last  was  remov- 
ed from  its  place  of  honour  with  little  regard  to  her 
intention,  but  only,  however,  to  make  room  for  that 
of  an  emperor.  In  the  church  of  the  Augustines, 
where  Daun  reposes,  the  anniversary  of  the  victory 
of  Collin  is  celebrated  by  a  public  Te  Deum,  on  the 
18th  of  June,  every  year;  and  on  the  3d  of  Novem- 
ber, a  Requiem  is  sung  here,  in  the  presence  of  the 
garrison,  to  the  memory  of  the  Austrian  soldiers 
who  were  slain.  Eugene  lies  entombed  in  the  ca- 
thedral of  St.  Stephen  ;  and  the  Emperor  Joseph  II. 
placed  the  busts  of  Loudon  and  Lacy,  in  honour  of 
their  services,  in  the  hall  of  the  Council  of  War. 
His  own  equestrian  statue  is  one  of  the  most  deserv- 
ed and  gratifying  memorials  in  this  capital.  It  is  of 
bronze,  on  a  pedestal  of  granite,  and  the  inscription 
one  that  can  seldom  be  applied  with  truth  to  any 
monarch  or  subject ;  but  that  we  know  to  have  been 
merited  by  this  illustrious,  generous-minded,  enthu- 
siastic sovereign  : 

"  SALUTI  PUBLICO  VIXIT  NON  DIU  SED  T0TU9." 

Considering  the  shortness  of  his  reign,  I  think  it 
doubtful  whether  his  condemned  precipitancy  and 
enthusiasm  are  to  be  regretted.  Whatever  he  had 
attempted  against  the  civil  power  of  the  church  of 
Rome,  the  priest  would  have  worked  step  by  step 
in  counteraction  of  his  measures  ;  whereas  he  strip- 
ped her  of  immense  and  irrecoverable  influence, 
when  he  opened  the  treasures  of  her  convents,  dis- 
persed their  wealth,  drove  forth  the  corrupt  and 


194  PRAGUE. 

idle  members,  and  alienated  their  wide  possessions. 
The  half  of  what  he  suppressed  never  have  been 
and  never  can  be  re-established.  Perhaps  no  one 
individual  of  the  Austrian  empire  has  more  deserved 
a  public  monument ;  and  it  is  to  the  credit  of  his 
nephew  to  have  erected  this  statue  to  his  fame. 

In  one  way  it  will  not  excite  any  great  surprise 
that  the  public  monuments  are  few,  for  the  great 
men  have  been  few  ;  and  as  the  nobles  of  the  em- 
pire who  have,  from  time  to  time,  distinguished 
themselves  in  leading  her  armies,  and  fighting  her 
battles,  have,  in  general,  been  possessed  of  great 
wealth,  the  Palfys  and  Lichtensteins  sleep  beneath 
tombs  erected  by  their  own  princely  houses. 

In  leaving  Vienna,  all  that  I  can  say  is,  that  I  have 
seen  the  city,  the  population,  and  a  hundred  things, 
trifles  in  themselves,  but  such  as  no  traveller  could 
have  described  for  me,  nor  could  1  hope  to  convey 
to  the  mind  of  any  reader,  and  such  as  well  reward 
the  gazing  wanderer. 

It  is  a  great  convenience  that  from  this  point  you 
may  journey  to  almost  any  of  the  principal  cities  of 
Germauy  rapidly  and  commodiously. 

There  is  an  eilwagen  to  Prague,  which  place  you 
reach  in  six-and-thirty  hours.  If  there  are  more 
passengers  than  fill  the  carriage,  they  are  conveyed 
in  extra  vehicles,  and  the  whole  proceed  by  post 
under  the  charge  of  one  conductor, 

With  the  exception  of  Znaym  in  Moravia,  and 
Collin  in  Bohemia,  you  pass  no  large  towns.  The 
country  is  well  cultivated,  the  villages  populous. 
The  peasants  look  not  so  healthy  or  handsome  as 
those  of  Austria  Proper,  and  there  are  many  beggars 
on  the  road.  There  is  very  little  beauty  of  scene- 
ry :  mountains,  however,  are  always  to  be  seen  in 


PRAGUE.  195 

the  far  distance.  You  cross  many  hills,  but  arrive 
only  on  more  elevated  plains,  till,  at  length,  you 
descend  into  that  vast  one,  far  away  in  the  very  bot- 
tom of  which  lies  the  ancient  city  of  Prague.  For 
the  last  few  miles  you  run  with  the  collar  along  a 
road  so  wide,  that  platoons  might  march  upon  it  with 
a  full  front,  as  doubtless  they  often  have.  What  is 
the  first  and  most  natural  association  with  Prague  in 
the  mind  of  the  English  traveller?  Why,  I  will  ven- 
ture to  say, — with  nine  out  of  ten,  aye,  and  I  will 
not  except  heads  ten  times  as  full  and  wise  as  mine, 
— it  is  The  Battle.  Not  the  battle,  as  recollected  in 
history,  or  thought  of  in  political  consequence,  but 
that  battle  which  we  have  heard  well  or  ill  played 
some  scores  of  times  in  our  boyhood.  I  can  remem- 
ber, as  it  were  yesterday,  though  it  is  five-and-twen- 
ty  years  ago,  how  often  I  have  stood  by  the  corner 
of  a  grand  piano,  as  a  little  frilled  boy,  teasing  fair 
girls  that  were  passing  into  womanhood,  to  play  me 
"  The  Battle  of  Prague,"  which  I  thought  at  that 
time  a  most  wonderful  composition  with  its  "  sound 
of  cannon" — "  rolling  of  musketry" — "  trumpet" — 
w  charge  of  cavalry" — "  galloping  of  horses" — 
"  clashing  of  swords" — "  groans  of  the  wounded  and 
the  dying" — "  grand  march" — "  God  save  the  King;" 
— and  then  that  little  light  Turkish  music  to  set  all 
right  again  in  the  stirred  heart,  and  send  you  away 
a  smiling  messenger  for  the  rewarding  glass  of  le- 
monade or  orgeat.  Of  course  I  went  to  the  memo- 
rable field.  It  was  a  very  cold  and  cloudy  day  :  the 
plain  looked  black  in  spite  of  the  stubble,  and  bare 
and  gloomy.  All  the  realities  of  the  after-scene  of 
a  general  engagement  were  present  to  my  mind's 
eye.  I  could  not  sing,  "  Oh,  what  a  glorious  thing's 
a   battle !" — "  Roll   drums   merrily,  march  away," 


196  PRAGUE. 

stuck  fairly  in  my  throat,  and  I  scarce  felt  as  a  sol- 
dier ought  to  feel,  till  I  came  upon  the  tomb  of  Mar- 
shal Schwerin,  a  plain,  quiet  cenotaph,  erected  in 
the  middle  of  a  wide  corn-field,  on  the  very  spot 
where  he  closed  a  long,  faithful,  and  glorious  career 
in  arms.  He  fell  here  at  eighty  years  of  age,  at 
the  head  of  his  own  regiment,  the  standard  of  it 
waving  in  his  hand.  Men  do  ordinarily  lean  upon 
their  staves  in  sorrow  before  that  age,  or  sit  feeble 
in  the  easy  chair,  the  foot  upon  the  cushioned  stool, 
or  clasp  with  lean  and  withered  fingers  a  book  of 
prayer.  His  seat  was  in  the  leathern  saddle,  his 
foot  in  the  iron  stirrup,  his  fingers  reined  the  young 
war-horse  to  the  last.  It  is  a  something  that  fills  the 
mind  as  you  muse  on  it.  It  would  seem  like  the 
answering  of  a  warrior's  pra»sr,  made  constant 
through  a  long  life, — so  to  live,  and  so  to  die. 

Prague  is  a  city,  which  does,  in  aspect,  entirely 
correspond  with  the  notions  you  would  form  of  it ; 
that  is,  the  older  parts  of  the  city.  The  more  mo- 
dern streets  are  wide  and  handsome  ;  but  the  mar- 
ket-place, the  bridge,  the  fine  old  Gothic  cathedral 
on  the  hill,  the  many  towers,  and  domes,  and  spires 
of  church  and  convent,  the  vast  and  decaying  pala- 
ces of  the  ancient  Bohemian  nobles,  the  large  pub- 
lic edifices,  and  the  old  style  of  architecture  in  the 
private  mansions,  give  a  character  of  grandeur  to 
old  Prague,  which,  to  a  lover  of  the  picturesque,  is 
far  more  impressive  than  any  view  of  Vienna.  A 
dozen  times  the  traveller  will  cross  and  recross  the 
bridge,  stained  with  the  grey  hue  of  age,  and  guard- 
ed, as  it  were,  by  eight-and-tvventy  large  coarse 
statues  of  saints,  under  whose  patronage,  you  know, 
the  beggar  of  old  was  wont  to  take  his  stand,  and 
across  which  the   fiercest  follower  of  Wallenstein 


PRAGUE.  197 

must  have  passed  unhelmeted,  and  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross  upon  his  steel  cuirass;  and  the  Jews,  too, 
you  know  the  very  kind  of  step  and  gait,  the  bowed 
head,  and  the  black  glance  with  which  they  travers- 
ed it.  No  beggar  accosts  you  now.  The  devout 
Catholic  raises  his  hat,  as  he  passes  the  crucifix  in 
the  centre  of  the  bridge.  The  Lutheran  passes  on 
and  away,  calm  and  covered  ;  and  if  he  is  a  man  of 
thought,  and  historical  associations  cross  his  mind, 
while  he  blesses  God  for  the  quiet  toleration  he 
enjoys,  forgets  not  John  Huss,  and  Jerome  of  Prague. 
The  Englishman  reflects,  with  no  less  gratitude,  on 
the  memory  of  the  great  Wickliffe,  his  countryman, 
and  regards  the  immense  power  of  human  influence 
with  delighted  awe.  "  How  solemn  is  a  residence 
in  this  world,"  when  we  can  trace,  through  five  cen- 
turies, and  among  countless  millions,  the  effects  of 
what  one  conscientious  priest  thought,  uttered,  and 
wrote,  during  a  brief  human  life  ! 

The  Protestants  are  not  very  numerous  in  Prague  ; 
but  they  are,  and  from  the  days  of  Joseph  II.  have 
been,  in  peace.  I  did  little  at  Prague  but  saunter 
about  for  three  days,  in  idle  pleasure,  entering 
places  as  the  fancy  took  me.  I  walked  through  the 
stately  salqpns  in  the  forsaken  palace  of  Wallenstein. 
The  frescoes  on  the  walls  are  bright  as  when  he 
trode  in  them.  The  vast  and  magnificent-looking 
palace  of  Czerim,  which  travellers  of  the  last  cen- 
tury saw  in  splendour,  is  naked,  dilapidated,  in  part 
quite  deserted,  and  many  of  its  large  chambers  given 
up  to  the  houseless  poor,  who  wander  about  its  chill, 
cold  space,  as  though  they  were  houseless  still. 

I  heard  high  mass  at  the  cathedral :  the  music  and 
singing  were  of  the  finest.  There  is  a  large  silver 
shrine  of  their  patron  saint,  Nepomucenus,  which 


198  PRAGUE. 

has  escaped  all  plunderers,  and  survived  the  wars  of 
centuries :  yet  one  tower  of  this  very  church  lies 
still  in  ruins,  and  recalls  the  fierce  bombardment  of 
the  city  by  Frederick  the  Great.  On  the  heights 
above  the  citadel  you  may  still  see  the  stone  where 
Frederick  is  recorded  to  have  sat  while  he  recon- 
noitred the  place.  The  extent  of  Prague  is  so  great, 
it  would  take  an  army  to  garrison  and  defend  it. 
The  works  are  in  a  ruinous  state,  nor  will  they 
suffer  any  stranger  to  ascend  the  slopes  of  the  ram- 
part. The  view  from  the  walls  of  the  upper  town 
over  the  city,  with  the  Moldau  flowing  broad  and 
freshly  through  it,  is  very  noble.  In  the  Imperial 
and  archiepiscopal  chateaux  in  this  quarter  there 
are  many  curious  old  paintings,  of  interest,  but  not 
of  merit.  The  square,  in  the  larger  or  lower  town, 
has  a  very  ancient  aspect,  especially  the  old  town- 
house,  and  the  front  of  one  which  was  occupied  by 
Tycho  Brahe.-  In  this  old  square  is  the  grand  or 
main  guard,  I.  saw  it  relieved.  The  men,  Bohe- 
mian grenadiers,  were  tall,  handsome  soldiers.  The 
band,  which  was  of  great  strength,  consisting  of  not 
less  than  forty  musicians,  made  a  most  slovenly 
appearance,  being  dressed  in  great-coats  of  different 
ages,  shapes,  and  colours ;  and  this  was  the  less 
excusable,  as  it  was  a  fine,  though  chilly  day.  I 
never  saw  any  thing,  in  its  way,  more  offensive  to  a 
military  eye.  However,  I  forgot  all  while  they 
were  playing  :  these  Austrian  bands  would  wake  the 
dead. 

In  one  of  the  streets  of  the  new  town  there  was 
exhibiting  a  panorama  of  the  British  expedition  to 
the  North  Pole.  I  was  bent  on  an  object  elsewhere 
at  the  moment,  or  I  should  certainly  have  entered, 
for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  fierce  Uhlan*  who 


PRAGUE.  199 

scarce  knows  there  is  a  sea  of  ice,  or  a  sea  of  any 
kind,  or  any  danger  save  the  melee  of  squadrons,  and 
the  fire  of  artillery,  gazing  upon  that  desolate  thea- 
tre of  daring  enterprise.  I  met  one  of  these  Uhlans 
after  I  passed  it,  the  pennon  waving  on  his  lance. 
He  was  admirably  mounted,  grew  to  his  saddle,  and 
made  his  horse  give  that  proud  play  of  rear  and 
plunge,  which  would  unseat  better  riders  than  John 
Gilpin.  This  long  peace  will  effect  wonders  in 
making  the  nations  of  Europe  better  acquainted  with 
each  other,  will  destroy  a  thousand  petty  prejudices, 
and  awaken  generous  and  useful  sympathies.  In 
many  ways  this  work  is  silently  going  on  :  prints  and 
engravings,  descriptions  and  anecdotes  in  newspa- 
pers, small  articles  of  cheap  luxury,  and  of  neat 
finished  manufacture  ;  nay,  Warren's  blacking  helps  : 
you  may  buy  a  bottle,  with  the  label  at  least,  in  any 
large  city  in  Europe  :  and  this  leads  me  to  remark, 
for  the  sake  of  young  and  particular  travellers,  that 
the  German  Boots,  in  all  the  good  inns,  is  own- 
brother  to  his  English  namesake,  and  far  before  his 
cousin  in  the  like  station  in  France  or  Italy  :  he  will 
polish  a  boot  for  you  as  if  you  were  going  to  parade. 
But  to  leave  these  mean  topics,  there  is  one  remark- 
able triumph,  which,  during  this  period  of  tranquil- 
lity, has  been  achieved  by  genius.  The  author  of 
Waverley  has  made  a  moral  conquest  of  Germany. 
Here,  in  old  Prague,  there  was  not  a  bookseller's 
shop  where  I  did  not  observe  that  his  works  were 
not  only  exposed  for  sale,  but  placarded  in  the  win- 
dow. The  Germans  find  great  fault  with  the  trans- 
lations which  they  have  of  them ;  but  they  say  so 
much  beauty  rays  through  the  obscu/ity  of  those 
translations,  that  they  are  universally  read.  A  Ger- 
man gentleman  declared  to  me  that  vast  numbers  of 
16 


1>00  PRAGUE 

Lis  countrymen  had  learned  the  English  language 
solely  for  the  pleasure  of  perusing  those  tales  in  the 
original, — a  statement  borne  out  by  the  fact  that 
they  are  everywhere  to  be  procured  in  English,  and 
that  you  repeatediy  meet  at  hotels,  coffee-houses,  in 
the  theatres,  and  in  public  conveyances,  young  men 
who  speak  enough  English  to  show  you  that  they 
read  the  language,  and  who  invariably  address  you 
about  those  novels,  and  their  reputed  author;  and 
on  more  than  one  occasion  1  was  asked  questions  as 
to  the  meaning  of  words  they  could  not  find  in  their 
dictionaries,  and  which  showed  that  they  read  with 
attention  and  relish 

They  complain  that  their  own  literature  is  little 
known  in  England,  greatly  undervalued,  and  such 
works  as  have  been  translated  into  English  miserably 
rendered.  How  far  they  may  be  right  I  am  not 
qualified  to  form  a  judgment ;  but  I  should  think 
that  the  Tale  of  Sintram  must  retain  in  its  English 
dress  much  of  the  spirit  of  its  original ;  for  it  cer- 
tainly has  a  charm  as  wild,  as  original,  and  as  fearful, 
as  ever  stirred  the  imagination  of  a  reader.  But 
one  thing  confirmatory  of  the  German  complaint  I 
know,  namely,  that  the  translation  of  Wallenstein 
by  Mr.  Coleridge  is  not  procurable  in  London,  al- 
though it  needs  not  to  say  how  such  a  gentleman 
would  have  executed  such  a  task, — a  proof,  if  any 
were  wanting,  that  their  literature  is  neither  known 
nor  regarded  among  us  as  it  should  be.  They  say  it 
is  impossible  to  translate  the  Faust.  They  are  pro- 
bably right;  but  it  can  hardly  be  considered  as  a 
sealed  work  of  genius  by  those  who  have  read  the 
beautiful  version  of  it  we  are  possessed  of 

I  met  with  several  pleasant  conversible  men  at  the 
table  of  my  hotel,  and  received  particular  attention 


PRAGUE.  201 

from  some  Austrian  officers  of  rank.  I  was  present 
at  the  representation  of  a  piece  in  the  theatre,  which 
was  exceedingly  well  acted  ;  but  there  did  not  ap- 
pear much  in  it  beyond  spectacle :  however,  the 
heroine,  the  beauty,  the  diamond,  the  treasure  of 
this  drama,  was  "  eine  Englanderin  ;"  and  some  Ger- 
mans near  me  were  full  of  the  great  beauty  of 
English  women,  who  enjoy  such  a  fame  throughout 
Germany  as  might  be  deemed  by  many,  not  by  me, 
extravagant. 

I  also  heard  at  this  theatre,  another  night,  the 
opera  of  Tancredi.  The  orchestra  was  perfect. 
A  third  night  I  witnessed  the  performance  of  the 
Abbe  de  PEpee.  Being  acquainted  with  the  story, 
and  remembering  John  Kemble  in  the  character  of 
the  Abbe,  I  was  enabled  to  follow  the  actors  through 
their  parts,  and  received  the  highest  gratification 
that  chaste  and  natural  acting  could,  in  a  piece  of 
that  class,  afford.  They  admirably  understand  the 
stage  business,  and  all  that  quiet,  deliberate,  effec- 
tive by-play,  which  does  so  amazingly  increase  the 
interest  excited,  and  give  such  reality  to  the  illusion. 

I  had  instructed  my  domestique  de  place  to  get  me 
the  half  of  a  carriage,  or  a  seat  in  one  where  the 
party  was  a  good  one.  "  Cela  suffit"  and  a  bow  ; 
and  he  soon  returned  boasting  of  a  "fort  belle  occa- 
sion" for  Dresden.  Accordingly,  in  the  morning, 
having  dismissed  and  settled  with  him  the  night 
previous,  1  found  myself  in  a  most  wretched  vehicle, 
dirty  and  incommodious,  with  a  captain  of  Austrian 
hussars,  good-iooking,  but  evidently  vacant,  helpless, 
and  heavy.  A  soft  man,  as  we  should  say,  had  been 
taken  in  by  this  driver,  like  myself.  We  moved  off 
at  a  snail's  pace,  and  very  soon,  according  to  my 
.suspicion,  pulled  up.  and  the    driver  went   off  in 


202  PRAGUE. 

search  of  chance-passengers.  I  sat  patient  for 
awhile,  like  the  man  in  the  Cuckoo,  but  at  last  fled, 
to  the  astonishment  of  the  phlegmatic  Baron,  and 
the  disappointment  of  the  driver,  who  was  to  have 
had  as  much  from  me  as  would  have  been  a  fair 
price  for  the  carriage  to  myself.  Boots  was  my 
friend,  ran  after  the  vehicle,  and  recovered  my  valise 
from  the  driver,  who  returned  in  a  vain  rage  to 
claim  me  ;  and,  in  another  hour,  I  found  for  myself, 
and  to  myself,  at  a  reasonable  rate,  a  return-carriage, 
with  capita!  borses  and  a  civil  driver,  for  Toplitz. 
"  Cela  suffit"  and  u  Fort  belle  occasion  :w — knowing 
well  those  dotnestiques  de  place,  how  could  I  trust  to 
the  treacherous  phrases  ? 

I  had  a  delightful  drive,  slept  at  a  small  village, 
where  I  was  comfortably  accommodated,  and  the 
next  day  at  the  place,  where  I  refreshed,  encoun- 
tered the  carriage  I  had  abandoned.  I  was  amaz- 
ingly diverted  when  I  learned  from  the  poor  Baron, 
who,  with  another  officer  of  Austrian  cavalry,  was 
just  about  to  sit  down  to  dinner,  and  whom  I  imme- 
diately joined,  that  they  packed  in  with  him  two  fat 
old  Jewesses  of  the  lower  order,  not  pleasant  or 
clean  in  aspect,  and  who  were  then  feeding  in  the 
kitchen.  It  is  true,  when  first  I  entered,  the  Baron 
trod  up  and  down  stately  ;  and  though  he  bowed, 
smoked,  and  would  not  speak,  he  soon  relaxed,  pro- 
bably from  observing  an  exulting  smile  in  my  eye, 
and  made  this  confession  of  his  fate,  which  was  still 
to  endure  for  a  day  and  a  half:  however,  he  had 
now  the  support  of  a  brother-officer.  This  gentle- 
man was  come  on  leave  from  the  frontiers  of  Tur- 
key, where  his  regiment  was  stationed.  He  told  me 
that  a  great  change  was  observable  among  the  Turk- 
ish troops  on  that  station.     They  were  by  no  means 


LOWOSITZ. 

vhe  haughty  and  insolent  men  remembered  by  those 
officers  long  acquainted  with  the  frontier,  but  were 
yielding  and  conciliatory,  and  affected  the  part  of 
"  bon  camarade"  with  all  the  Austrians  near  them. 
With  these  two  officers  I  had  a  very  long  conversa- 
tion :  the  one  was  a  man  of  forty,  the  other  some- 
what younger,  both  captains  of  cavalry,  and  all  their 
lives  in  the  service.  They  could  neither  of  them 
tell  me  the  strength  of  the  Austrian  army,  the  num- 
ber of  regiments,  or  the  proportion  of  the  respective 
arms  to  each  other :  they  tried  to  guess,  and  seemed 
to  me  quite  lost  and  bewildered  by  the  vain  attempt. 
This,  really  (though  1  admit  they  were  not  very 
wise  subjects),  speaks  volumes  for  the  proverbial 
indifference  of  the  Austrian  to  all  arrangements  of 
his  government,  which  do  not  personally  affect  him 
as  an  individual.  These  were  old  officers,  and  knew 
less  about  the  composition  of  their  army  at  large 
than  I  did,  who  had  just  traversed  their  country, 
ignorant  of  their  language.  Of  the  Italian  levies,  of 
the  Tyrolese  yagers,  they  knew  nothing  more  than 
that  there  were  troops  of  that  description,  whom  they 
never  chanced  to  have  seen,  and  concerning  whom 
they  had  never  made  any  particular  inquiries.  I 
should  certainly  add,  that  I  suspect  both  these  men 
were  mere  w  sabreurs,"  and  had  probably  been 
raised  from  the  ranks,  as  handsome,  clean,  steady- 
duty  soldiers  :  but  I  often  put  the  same  questions  to 
other  military  men  in  Austria,  and  I  never  got  clear 
answers.  After  passing  a  very  cheerful  hour  with 
these  officers,  1  left  them  to  smoke  their  second  pipe, 
and  walked  forward  alone,  desiring  the  carriage  to 
follow  me  when  ready.  The  name  of  the  place 
where  I  had  dined  was  Lowositz,  and  the  hill  up 
which  1  walked  overlooked  and  formed  part  of  a 
16* 


204  LOWOSITZ. 

field,  memorable  for  a  very  bloody  victory,  gained 
by  the  Prussians  over  a  Saxon  army  in  1756. 

The  bright  sun  of  a  still  afternoon,  late  in  the 
autumn,  was  shining  mildly  over  every  object.  In  a 
vineyard  on  the  slope  they  were  engaged  in  carry- 
ing the  last  of  the  vintage,  and  I  met  a  party  of  iti- 
nerant musicians  coming  slowly  down  the  hill,  con- 
sisting of  two  elderly  men,  a  boy,  and  five  women, 
bearing  harps.  They  stopped  at  my  request :  the 
women  took  the  covers  from  their  harps,  and  they 
played  and  sung  for  me,  with  a  harmony  and  a  feel- 
ing I  have  often  listened  for  in  drawing-rooms  in 
vain.  Pleased  with  my  evident  contentment,  they 
regaled  me  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
ci  con  amore,"  and  sent  me  forward  with  such  a  stock 
of  happiness  for  the  rest  of  the  day  as  sweet  sounds 
do  always  give  us.  These  poor  women  were  brown, 
and  weather-beaten  as  gipsies,  yet  there  was  a  touch, 
a  turn,  a  tone  of  tenderness  in  every  movement 
which  they  played,  in  every  air  they  sung.  Bohe- 
mia is  the  land  of  music.  The  children  in  the  vil- 
lages are  taught  at  school  to  read  the  notes  of  music, 
like  the  letters  of  their  alphabet ;  and  music,  where 
it  is  not  an  occupation,  is  yet  the  solace  of  each  poor 
man's  life. 

It  is  certain,  I  think,  that  music  must  soften  every 
heart  over  which  it  exercises  an  habitual  influence. 
It  must  give  a  colouring  to  the  thoughts,  a  capacity 
for  those  deep  reveries  which  lift  man^s  spirit  to  the 
invisible  world,  and  without  being  conscious  of  it,  he 
is  imperceptibly  imbued  with  all  that  is  indefinably 
sublime  n  thj  mystery  of  our  connection  with  those 
shadows  and  .ntelligences  which  flit  unseen  about 
our  path  and  our  bed,  and  hold  communings' with 
our  lonely  thoughts  by  day,  and  with  our  solitary 


DRESDEN.  205 

visions  in  the  night-season.  Music  has  been  called, 
I  think  it  is  by  Madame  de  Stael,  "  a  glorious  inu- 
tility ;"  a  proof  ihat  it  is  one  of  those  divine  gifts  to 
man,  which  was  designed  at  once  to  sweeten  our 
existence  on  earth,  and  to  elevate  our  thoughts  to 
heaven.  We  know,  too,  that  angels  sing.  We  know 
that  through  those  clouds  which  broke  in  floods  of 
brightness  on  the  shepherds'  night,  they  sung  "  Glory 
to  God  on  high,  peace  on  earth,  good  will  towards 
man  !" 

1  arrived  in  the  evening  at  Toplitz.  It  is  a  water- 
ing place  :  the  season  was  past,  and  the  town  forsaken. 
The  houses  are  white,  the  shutters  green,  the  roads 
well  kept.  There  are  some  pretty  rides,  agreeable 
promenades,  and  picturesque  scenery  ;  and  I  should 
have  thought  it  delightful  if  I  could  have  forgotten 
Baden-Baden  ! 

Dresden  I  entered  by  night.  There  is  nothing  of 
the  stir  or  bustle  of  a  capital  about  it ;  few  carriages 
are  rattling  on  the  stones,  but  the  streets  and  build- 
ings have  regularity,  and  space,  and  height,  which 
promise  well  to  the  stranger,  and  he  will  not  be 
disappointed. 

Every  visitor  is  pleased  with  the  city  of  Dresden. 
It  is  not  that  the  churches  are  remarkable,  or  that 
the  palaces  are  stately,  although  the  dome  of  the 
mother-church  and  the  lofty  tower  of  the  palace  are 
very  striking  objects,  but  it  is,  that  there  is  a  general 
air  of  freshness,  and  cleanness,  and  brightness,  all 
about  the  city  ;  that  a  noble  river  rolls  past  it,  spann- 
ed by  a  very  fine  bridge  ;  that  there  are  two  spacious 
squares  or  market-places,  wrhich  have  an  aspect 
peculiar  and  quite  their  cd>n  For,  though  many 
travellers  have  styled  Dresden  the  Florence  of  Ger- 
many, the  white  mansions  and  regular  facades  of 


206  DRESDEN. 

Florence,  and  the  red  fronts,  the  forms  and  shapes  of 
the  windows,  and  of  the  gables,  and  housetops,  in 
Dresden,  stamp  the  cities  as  widely  dissimilar.  There 
is,  indeed,  one  point  where  a  comparison,  though 
not  a  close  one,  is  allowable  :  Dresden  has  its  Gal- 
lery of  Paintings,  and  Hall  of  Antiquities  ;  and,  if 
Florence  can  boast  her  Medicean  Venus,  the  capital 
of  Saxony,  rich  in  the  possession  of  the  very  finest 
Madonna  ever  conceived  or  painted  by  Raphael, 
may,  like  that  city  of  the  arts,  ensure  the  pilgrimage 
of  all  worshippers  of  genius  to  her  gates.  I  will 
first  speak  of  this  gallery.  Reader,  fear  not ;  I  am 
not  going  to  inflict  on  you  a  catalogue  of  its  con- 
tents, but  the  Madonna  del  Sisto  is  common  right, 
and  I  must  have  my  say  on  it.  The  composition  of 
the  picture  is  known ;  the  descriptions  of  it  are 
multiplied  and  accessible  ;  that  of  the  Dresden  cata- 
logue is  as  follows  : 

"  La  Madonne  avec  I'Enfant  divin  sur  une  nue  au 
milieu  d'une  gloire  ;  a  droite  un  St.  Pape  a  genoux ; 
ii  est  vetu  d^ne  tunique  blanche  et  d'un  pallium  de 
drap  d'or.  La  tiare  est  a  son  cote  ;  a  gauche  la  St. 
Barbe  egalement  a  genoux,  et  le  regard  baisse  vers 
deux  petits  anges  reposant  sur  un  plan  au  pied  de 
cette  composition,  aussi  sublime  que  simple." 

The  form,  the  light  and  airy  tread  upon  the  cloud, 
the  grace  of  her  long  and  flowing  garments,  the 
simple  and  lightly-folded  mantle  on  her  head,  out  of 
which  looks  forth  a  face  of  sacred  innocence,  give 
to  this  Virgin  an  air  and  an  aspect  that  do  largely 
speak  of  her  high  and  blessed  oftice.  The  Infant 
on  her  arm  seems  the  mysterious  Thing  it  was  :  it 
looks  not  like  any  child  that  was,  or  will  be  :  its  hair 
sits  off  from  its  young  forehead  ;  and  thought,  and 
sorrow,  and  grief,  seem  taking  there  their  early  seat. 


DRESDEN.  207 

and  looking  gravely  from  its  young  eyes.  St.  Sixtus, 
an  aged  and  withered  figure,  kneels  in  solemn  won- 
der, and  imploring  adoration,  with  an  intent  and 
upward  gaze.  Santa  Barbara,  who  has  the  youth, 
the  beauty,  the  uncovered  hair,  the  garments  of 
woman  as  she  is  in  high-born  circles,  bends  her 
young  head  to  earth  as  if  in  sweet  rapture,  yet 
subdued  with  awe.  But  earth  has  given  the  model 
of  this  Madonna  :  this  is  no  face  of  the  poet's  dream, 
no  face  to  search  for  in  kings'  palaces :  it  is  peasant 
beauty, — the  beauty  of  a  lowly  being, — the  beauty 
of  innocent  thoughts,  of  hallowed  lips,  of  modesty 
that  grows  in  the  still  hamlet,  and  that  the  heart's 
throb  acknowledges  for  something  to  be  loved  and 
worshipped,  as  above  us,  far  above  us,  nigher  to 
heaven  than  earth.  Such  is  to  me  the  character  of 
Raphael's  Madonna  :  it  is  the  lowly  handmaiden,  the 
espoused  Virgin,  chosen  to  be  the  mother  of  a  Holy 
Thing,  blessed  among  women  !  It  is,  at  once,  all 
that  we  should  call  the  ideal  of  glorified  mortality, 
and  all  that  we  know  to  be  real  on  our  earth  among 
those  human  flowers  which  blush  unseen  in  quiet 
places. 

The  cherub  forms  below,  of  themselves  miracu- 
lous performances,  give  the  finest  possible  idea  of 
the  angelic  mind,— infant  in  innocence,  mighty  in 
comprehension.  One  rests  his  head  upon  his  little 
hand,  the  other  reposes  his  cheek  upon  his  folded 
arms;  but  oh  !  how  deeply,  sadly  serious,  is  their 
gaze  !  No  earthly  mind  is  looking  from  those  eyes ; 
they  have  desired  to  look  into  the  mystery,  and  they 
have  been  permitted  so  to  do.  They  see  that  the 
Child  in  the  Virgin's  arms  is  to  be  a  man  of  sorrows 
and  acquainted  with  grief;  that  he  is  the  Lamb  of 
Ood,  the  Redeemer  of  mankind :  wonder,  love,  and 


208  DRESDEN. 

faitb,  are  in  their  looks.  The  life  and  death  of 
Christ,  unfolded  to  their  prescient  eyes,  fill  them 
with  compassion  ;  and  there  is  a  something,  too,  of 
mourning  for  man, — the  unbelieving  and  the  scorn- 
er  : — u  If  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in 
this  thy  day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  peace  ! 
but  now  they  are  hid  from  thine  eyes." 

I  never  saw  any  picture  in  my  life  so  heavenly, 
so  hallowed  in  its  conception  as  this.  This  is  the 
true  Scripture  Virgin,  as  the  meditative  Christian 
might  conceive  of  her, — blessed  among,  and  before, 
all  women  ;  but  still,  woman  only. 

I  heard  two  criticisms  on  this  masterpiece,  by  ar- 
tists. The  first  was  from  an  elderly  connoisseur, 
who  stood  by  my  side  at  one  of  my  repeated  visits 
to  it,  and  exclaimed,  pettishly  :  "  C^est  beau;  mais  la 
Sainte  Barbare  gate  tout"  The  second  was  from  a 
female  amateur,  or  artist,  who  was  engaged  in  tak- 
ing a  copy  of  the  St.  Cecilia  of  Carlo  Dolce.  She 
was  a  very  fine  copyist,  a  Frenchwoman,  a  Parisian. 
In  reply  to  an  observation  of  mine,  upon  this  great 
chef'd'>03uvre1RS  I  leaned  over  her  easel,  and  was  con- 
versing with  her  on  the  contents  of  the  gallery,  she 
said,  u  Out,  Monsieur,  c^est  sublime  ;  mais  ne  irouvez- 
vous  pas  que  le  regard  de  la  Sainte  Vierge  vous  fait 
frissoner  ?" 

A  page  could  not  so  fully  have  impressed  me  with 
all  that  in  his  high  inspiration,  Raphael  designed  to 
convey,  and  has  so  wonderfully  succeeded  in  por- 
traying—  Frissoner!  yes,  the  Parisian  belle,  in  whom 
the  spark  of  modesty,  though  dimmed  by  that  taint- 
ed atmosphere,  has  yet  never  been  totally  extin- 
guished, may  well  gaze  on  the  serene  majesty  which 
beams  with  a  fixed  ray  from  the  eyes  of  the  Madon 
na  de  San  Sisto.  and  feel  the  involuntary  chill 


DRESDEN.  209 

I  must  not  detain  my  reader  longer  in  this  gallery, 
although  1  visited  it  daily  for  hours,  giving  always, 
however,  hy  far  the  greater  part  of  the  time  1  lin- 
gered in  it  to  the  contemplation  of  this  one  picture. 

To  have  seen,  and  to  have  the  memory  of  such  a 
thing  present  to  the  mind  at  will,  is  an  aid  in  the 
daily  path,  a  help  on  the  road  to  heaven. 

There  was  a  grand  requiem  performed  in  the  Ca- 
tholic church  at  Dresden  during  my  stay,  in  memo- 
ry of  the  deceased  electors  of  Saxony  :  it  is  annual. 
1  went  for  the  sake  of  hearing  the  music  of  this 
church,  which  is  celebrated  throughout  Germany, 
and  to  see  the  ro}'al  family. 

I  waited  in  a  small  antechamber  of  the  palace  to 
see  the  King  of  Saxony  pass  through  the  gallery,  by 
which  he  enters  his  pew.  Some  guards,  habited  in 
scarlet,  but  in  very  bad  taste,  lined  the  passage.  Not 
being  at  all  prepared  by  any  previous  description,  I 
was  much  surprised  to  see  an  elderly  gentleman,  in 
a  suit  of  court  mourning,  with  bag  and  solitaire,  ruf- 
fles, and  a  muff,  in  which,  except  for  some  momenta- 
ry use  of  them,  his  hands  were  kept  close  and  warm. 

There  is  nothing  in  this  :  it  was  once,  and  not 
very  long  ago,  the  fashion  throughout  Europe  ;  yet 
to  see  such  a  figure,  and  to  think  that  it  had  worn  a 
crown,  throughout  all  the  turbulent  scenes  which 
have  agitated  Europe  within  the  last  twenty  years, 
and  to  know  that  the  hand  buried  in  a  muff  had  been 
grasped  with  friendliness  by  that  of  Napoleon,  gave 
a  peculiar  interest  to  the  presence  of  this  weak  but 
worthy  monarch. 

The  music  of  this  church  deserves  all  its  fame. 
The  visitor  who  likes  not  the  sight  of  violins  in  a 
church  must  turn  his  head  away,  and,  forgetting  they 
are  there,  listen  only  to  the  sacred  harmony :  he 


210  DRESDEN. 

will  not,  he  cannot,  be  disappointed.  It  is  true, 
some  pain  will  mingle  with  his  pleasure.  Although 
the  warbles  of  the  most  celebrated  vocalist  there 
electrify  and  thrill,  yet  there  is  at  times  a  jar,  a 
break,  a  failing,  as  of  the  giving  way  of  some  fine 
chord ;  and  you  are  then  affectingly  reminded  that 
you  are  listening  to  one  whose  cradle  this  hateful 
luxury  of  Italy  has  robbed, 

"  And  ravished  thence  the  promise  of  a  man  ;" 

that  he  is  one  of  those  most  unhappy  of  all  unhappy 
beings,  who  are 

"  Cast  out  from  Nature,  disinherited 
Of  what  her  meanest  children  claim  by  kind*" 

Dry  den. 

I  walked  after  service  to  the  bridge,  and  sat  long 
in  one  of  the  recesses,  enjoying  the  noble  view  of 
the  Elbe  and  the  city.  In  that  recess  I  sat  where 
Napoleon  passed  three  hours,  watching  the  progress 
of  his  people  as  they  finished  the  repairs  of  the 
bridge,  and  the  defilement  of  his  troops.  A  chapter 
in  the  account  of  the  campaign  of  1813,  by  Baron 
Odeleben,  a  Saxon  officer  on  the  staff  of  the  then 
Emperor,  is  full  of  details  concerning  that  extraor- 
dinary man,  which  will  be  read  with  interest  by 
every  one,  and  the  memory  of  which,  on  the  spot, 
gives  many  and  very  interesting  pictures  to  the  fan- 
cy. As  a  politician,  Napoleon  did  not,  certainly, 
shine  during  the  conferences  held  at  that  period ; 
but,  as  a  General,  since  his  memorable  and  succes- 
sive triumphs  in  three  closely  consecutive  battles* 

*  Montenotte,  Millesimo,  Mondovi, 


DRESDEN.  till 

in  the  campaign  of  1796,  in  Italy,  by  his  able  appli- 
cation of  the  principle  of  central  movements  (his  fa- 
vourite one),  he  never  appeared  to  greater  advan- 
tage than  when  he  repulsed  the  combined  and  well- 
concerted  attack  on  his  position  at  Dresden. 

The  great  and  constant  rival  and  enemy  of  Buona- 
parte perished  upon  the  field  of  Dresden.  We  may 
question  the  soundness  of  the  judgment  which  de- 
creed him  a  monument  of  honour  on  that  field.  The 
fame  of  a  leader,  whose  triumphant  entry  into  Augs- 
burg and  Munich,  after  defeating  the  Archduke 
Charles,  whose  yet  more  glorious  retreat  through 
the  Black  Forest,  and  whose  victory  of  Hohenlinden 
will  adorn  the  page  of  history  for  ever,  needed  not 
that  this  unfortunate,  though  not  unaccountable  close 
of  his  military  life,  should  be  thus  mistakenly  perpe- 
tuated. I  did  not  visit  the  monument,  which  I  learn, 
as  might  have  been  anticipated,  has  been  desecrated 
by  some  scoundrel  hand.  I  say  scoundrel,  because  I 
suppose  the  thing  to  have  been  done  secretly,  and 
in  the  meanest  spirit  of  vindictive  envy.  A  French 
battalion,  composed  of  men  twenty  years  younger 
than  Moreau,  might  have  been  forgiven  the  open 
overthrow  of  the  monument.  Heroic  as  a  public 
character,  estimable  as  a  private  one,  Moreau  had 
so  identified  in  his  own  mind  the  love  of  France  with 
hatred  of  Napoleon,  that  he  forgot  how  impossible 
it  was  for  the  mass  of  Frenchmen  to  look  upon  him, 
in  the  council  and  the  camp  of  their  enemies,  with 
other  sentiments  than  those  of  indignation,  or  of  sor- 
row. 

These  ends  of  renowned  lives,  how  strange  they 

are  !    In  the  armoury  of  Dresden  you  may  see  and 

grasp  the  pistols  of  Charles  the  Twelfth.     There 

be  few  English  visitors  on  whose  minds  the  life,  the 

17 


212  DRESDEN. 

history,  and  the  fate  of  this  hero-monarch  are  not 
indelibly  stamped,  by  the  nervous  lines  of  Johnson, 
This  armoury  of  Dresden  would  be  a  most  interest- 
ing display,  were  not  the  rooms  so  small,  and  the  ar- 
rangement so  wretched,  that  it  is  impossible  to  exa- 
mine its  contents.  Here  you  may  hold  in  your  hand 
the  first  instrument  on  which  an  experiment  was 
made  with  the  newly-invented  gunpowder  of 
Schwartz.  Here  you  may  see  countless  suits  of 
ancient  armour,  and  the  most  splendid  horse-furni- 
ture among  them  ;  the  caparison  of  a  horse  so  cost- 
ly, that  the  frontlet,  head-stall,  neck-ornaments,  and 
breast-plate,  are  entirely  studded  with  large  and 
beautiful  turquoises.  There  are  a  number  of  relics 
of  like  interest;  things  that  are  mere  nothings  in  de- 
scription, but  are  much  to  see.  The  like  may  be 
said  of  the  treasures  in  the  Green  Vault ;  it  is  a  great 
and  rare  pleasure  to  visit  them: — crowns  and  rega- 
lia, rich  with  the  most  costly  gems;  ancient  services 
of  massy  embossed  plate;  goblets  and  vases  of  an- 
tique forms  ;  precious  enamels  ;  inlaid  cabinets  ;  the 
finest  camei ;  quaint  and  grotesque  toys,  made  of  the 
coral  and  the  pearl,  the  topaz  and  the  emerald.  Ma- 
ny articles  of  virtu,  of  the  most  curious  and  ancient 
workmanship,  and  some  works  in  ivory,  so  beauti- 
fully carved  in  relief,  that  the  infant  bacchanal,  the 
fair  full  form  of  woman,  and  the  withered  lines  of 
age,  are  given  with  a  grace,  a  truth,  and  life,  which 
astonish  and  delight.  I  am  sure  I  lingered  an  hour, 
at  least,  in  the  small  chamber  where  the  articles  in 
ivory  are  exhibited.  Many  of  them  are  the  outsides 
of  goblets,  these  being  lined  with  a  thin  plate  of 
gold.  There  is  no  catalogue  of  the  contents  of  this 
vault,  and  the  objects  to  be  viewed  are  so  numerous 


DRESDEN.  5213 

and  bewildering,  that  it  is  impossible,  at  one  visit,* 
to  make  notes,  or  to  separate  and  fix  in  your  mind 
the  things  which  you  maybe  desirous  to  remember: 
but  the  effect,  as  a  whole,  is  long  thought  of,  and 
illustrates  for  the  curious  fancy  periods  that  have 
passed  away.  The  hall  of  the  throne,  the  cavalcade 
of  the  court,  the  board  of  the  feast,  the  chamber,  the 
cabinet  of  other  days,  is  furnished  out  from  a  treasu- 
ry like  this,  and  you  gaze  undoubtingly  on  the  past. 

The  Dresden  china  is  exhibited  in  a  palace,  where, 
in  a  long  range  of  chambers,  you  may  trace  the  rise 
and  progress  of  an  art  which  furnishes  a  most  inno- 
cent and  elegant  luxury  to  man, — a  luxury  which,  in 
degree,  is  felt  throughout  society  at  large.  The  ef- 
fect which,  1  think,  is  produced  on  the  mind  of  the 
middle  and  humble  classes  throughout  Europe,  by 
the  increasing  elegance  of  form  and  pattern,  in  most 
of  the  articles  of  China,  or  humbler  ware,  now  in 
common  use  among  them,  is  most  civilising.  There 
is  a  something  pleasing  to  the  eye,  contenting,  re- 
conciling, in  these  trifles ;  and  if  they  be  elegant 
they  will  beget  a  gentleness  in  those  who  daily  gaze 
on  them. 

In  the  same  building  is  the  Hall  of  Antiquities.  I 
found  in  the  collection  a  Minerva,  and  some  Vestals, 
— statues  of  the  very  highest  class !  The  Professor 
accompanied  me  politely  round  the  whole  collection, 
and  left  me,  at  my  request,  alone.  I  enjoy  ail  an- 
tiques alone  ;  and  it  is  only  so  that  I  can.  I  take 
this  to  be  the  case  with  more  travellers  than  care  to 


*  The  attendant  there  said  to  me,  but  not  complainingly,  as 
I  went  away,  that  few  visitors,  in  his  remembrance,  had  detain- 
ed him  so  long.     I  confess  myself  delighted  with  such  trifles  :— 

"  These  little  things  are  great  to  little  men." 


214  DRESDEN. 

own  it.  A  man  shows  me  a  coin,  (a  Ptolemy,  for  in- 
stance,) throws  out  the  flag  of  antiquarianism,  spreads 
abroad  the  canvass  of  his  learning,  and  sails  away 
stately  upon  the  ocean  of  ancient  history.  Well,  the 
thoughts  that  are  amusing  me  are  those  connected 
with  the  history  of  the  coin,  and  the  domestic  man- 
ners of  past  ages;  how  it  was  upon  the  stone-tahle  of 
money-changers  in  Alexandria  before  Christianity  had 
dawned  upon  the  world  ;  how  it  was  bought,  paid 
away,  given,  stolen  ;  how  it  was  scrambled  for  by 
boys,  and  quarrelled  for  by  men  in  good  poluphloisboio 
Greek,  long  centuries  ago.  It  fis  a  liberty  to  talk 
thus  with  you,  reader ;  but  I  am  fancying  myself  at 
dinner  with  you,  and  writing  as  1  should  speak. 

I  was  at  a  concert  at  Dresden  which  was  very 
fully  attended,  and  was  highly  gratified.  A  lady, 
who  performed  on  the  grand  piano,  made  the  instru- 
ment speak  each  note  with  a  loud  distinct  clearness 
that  was  quite  wonderful.  1  had  no  idea  before  that 
the  powers  of  the  piano  were  so  great. 

At  the  theatre  here  I  witnessed  the  performance 
of  Herman  and  Dorothea.  It  was  got  up  and  given 
perfectly.  The  house  was  crowded :  you  might 
have  heard  a  pin  drop  ;  and  nothing  could  be  acted 
with  a  more  natural,  yet  animated  simplicity,  than 
this  interesting  pastoral. 

The  German  theatre  is,  apparently,  as  free  from 
bad  female  company  as  a  private  assembly  ;  or  if 
they  do  venture  there,  it  is  under  that  concealment 
of  dress  and  demeanour  which  forbids  even  a  suspi- 
cion of  their  character.  Would  it  were  so  with  the 
theatres  in  England  !  However,  the  moral  aspect  of 
the  Dresden  streets,  after  sunset,  is  bad  enough; 
worse,  certainly,  for  the  size  of  the  city,  than  that 
of  Vienna. 


LEIPSIC.  21* 

There  is  an  excellent  reading-room  at  Dresden, 
where  are  the  English  papers,  the  English  reviews, 
and  Germans  attentively  reading  them.  u  It  is  a 
great  advantage  to  us  Germans,"  a  gentleman  ob- 
served to  me,  in  French,  "  that  we  are  forced  to 
make  ourselves  acquainted  with  the  languages  of 
other  nations,  because  we  do  not  expect  foreigners, 
however  well  educated,  to  be  acquainted  with  ours, 
or  to  care  about  the  study  of  it;  and  yet,"  he  said, 
14  we  are  rich  in  original  thinkers,  and  in  good  wri- 
ters, and  have  had  the  great  advantage  of  studying, 
not  only  the  finest  models  in  ancient  times,  but  the 
finest  which  Italy,  France,  and  England,  have  pro- 
duced.*' It  is  pleasant  to  read  in  a  German  casino, 
it  is  so  very  still.  Their  eyes  drink  in  the  page 
before  them  with  a  silent  eagerness,  and  at  the  too 
near  approach  or  the  stir  they  glare  at  you  reprov- 
ingly. 

After  six  delightful  days,  in  Dresden,  I  took  the 
eilwagen  to  Leipsic.  The  journey  is  made  most 
pleasantly  in  a  day.  You  leave  Dresden  at  seven  in 
the  morning,  and  reach  Leipsic  at  four  in  the  after- 
noon. Our  party  consisted  of  a  very  fine  young  offi- 
cer of  riflemen,  a  young  Russian,  a  student  of  Halle, 
a  little  fiery  Saxon,  domiciled  at  Paris,  and  myself. 
The  road  to  Meissen  is  beautiful :  the  majestic  Elbe 
flows  calmly  by  your  side,  and  rock,  wood,  and  ver- 
dure, adorn  its  banks  with  all  that  can  give  a  pleas- 
ing variety  to  river-scenery.  From  Meissen  to  Leip- 
sic there  is  less  to  interest  the  eye ;  but  the  conver- 
sation was  so  animated,  that  I  was  heartily  sorry 
when  we  reached  our  journey's  end,  and  separated 
to  our  respective  homes  and  hotels.  If  Germany 
has  many  such  young  officers,  and  if  her  universi- 
ties, with  all  his  wildness,  have  manv  such  students, 
17* 


216  LEIPS1C. 

she  may  be  proud  indeed.  These  young  men  were 
ready  upon  every  subject,  generous  and  enlightened 
upon  all;  and  yet,  I  do  believe  that  the  cap,  the 
hair,  and  the  pipe  of  the  student,  the  moustache  of 
the  youthful  soldier,  would  have  caused  many  a  most 
kind,  quiet  Englishman  to  have  shrunk  from  con- 
versing with  fellow-passengers,  whose  exterior  pro- 
mised so  little  to  reward  the  trouble.  The  German 
youth  have  a  solidity  of  thought,  and  sincerity  of 
heart,  which  colours  all  their  conversation  on  sub- 
jects of  a  deep  moral  interest.  They  are  largely 
tolerant  on  religious  matters ;  not  as  some  have  un- 
fairly forced  the  inference,  from  indifference  to  re- 
ligion, but  from  a  holding  fast  of  what  is  essential  in 
it,  and  declining  all  controversy,  all  bitterness,  and 
quarrelling  about  the  rest. 

The  Roman  Catholic  of  Germany  is  unlike  any  of 
that  great  family  elsewhere.  The  <  alvinist  and  the 
Lutheran  love  each  other  as  Christians  :  all  are  in- 
clined to  mysticism  in  some  slight  degree,  save  the 
Rationalists,  who  are  as  inconsiderable  in  numbers  as 
they  are  uninfluential  on  the  mind  of  the  public  at 
large.     The  school  of  the  Rationalists*  has  not  been 

#  I  have  read,  with  deep  attention,  a  volume  of  Sermons,  by 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Rose,  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  I  merely 
would  ask,  as  a  query,  whether  u  The  State  of  Protestantism  in 
Germany"  be  a  fair  title  for  the  book  of  that  learned  gentle- 
man ?  To  the  mind  of  many  readers,  after  a  most  careful  peru- 
sal of  the  Notes  appended  to  it,  it  will  appear  not  fair.  The 
lectures  and  discourses  that  gentleman  heard  in  Germany,  the 
cities  and  churches  he  visited,  the  congregations  he  observed  in 
public,  and  the  Christians  whom  he  met  in  private,  should  have 
been  given  in  that  Appendix  ;  also  tables  of  the  Protestant  po- 
pulation, distinguishing  the  acknowledged  profession  and  tenets 
of  the  different  persuasions  ;  and  the  numbers  in  each  church  or 
sect,  as  far  *s  they  could  be  ascertained,  should  have  been  add- 
ed to  the  list  of  those  controversial  works,  which  are,  perhaps, 
Jess  highly  valued  in  Germany  than  he  may  imagine. 


LEIPS1C,  21* 

without  its  use  ;  for  man  never  appears  so  weak,  so 
helpless,  so  ridiculous,  as  when  he  lights  the  feeble 
taper  of  his  reason  to  examine  and  pronounce  upon 
the  credibility  of  those  facts  related,  and  those  mys- 
teries revealed  to  us  in  the  Bible.  "  To  live,  and 
move,  and  have  our  being,"  a  miracle  to  ourselves, 
and  among  created  miracles  of  every  possible  varie- 
ty ;  to  find  our  reason  baifled  by  the  first  pebble  we 
pick  up  beneath  our  feet,  all  the  properties  of  which 
we  can  most  scientifically  describe,  but  of  the  essence 
of  which  we  know  nothing ;  and  then  to  explain 
away  the  less  wonderful  miracles  of  Scripture,  be- 
cause our  reason  refuses  credit  to  them,  is  a  something 
so  palpably  absurd,  that  even  the  patient,  inquiring 
German  could  not  listen  to  such  lectures  long  if  they 
did  not  sooner  drive  him  forth  by  inflicting  a  severe 
wound  n  his  heart.  I  was  present  in  the  great 
church  of  Leipsic  at  the  administration  of  the  sacra- 
ment. The  communicants  stood  in  long  files,  and 
advanced  reverentially  towards  the  altar;  they  re- 
ceived the  holy  elements  standing,  and  passing  round 
the  aitar,  again  rejoined  the  congregation.  The 
congregation,  whether  composed  of  those  who  were 
about  to  communicate,  or  had  done  so,  or  of  those 
who  merely  assisted  at  the  ceremony,  sung  a  hymn 
or  hymns  throughout  the  whole  service.  After 
deducting  largely  for  the  effect  produced  on  me  by 
the  sweet  and  solemn  singing  of  this  assembled 
multitude,  and  by  the  black  scull-cap,  the  ancient 
ruffs,  (like  those  of  our  Elizabethan  era,)  and  the 
reverend  aspect  of  the  officiating  ministers,  i  cer- 
tainly was  impressed,  and  that  strongly,  with  the  feel- 
ing and  sincere  devotion  of  the  communicants.  We 
kneel  at  the  altar,  another  church  sits  at  the  commu- 
nion-table, these  stand  and  sing  a  hymn :  we  all  do 


218  LE1PS1C. 

it  in  remembrance  that  Christ  died  for  us,  and  he 
knows  in  all  these  congregations  those  who  are  his, 
those  who  feed  on  Him  in  their  hearts  with  thanks- 
giving. 

The  Sabbath-aspect  of  Leipsic  was  still  and  deco- 
rous. The  people  walk  about  on  the  promenades 
well  dressed  and  quietly  ;  and  were  it  not  that  there 
is  a  theatre  open  in  the  evening,  you  might  take  it 
for  one  of  our  large  towns  at  home. 

I  drove  to  the  memorable  field  of  Lutzen.  There, 
by  the  road-side,  heneath  four  spiral  poplars,  which 
rise  monumentally  above  some  rude  stones  bedded  in 
the  earth  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  is  the  spot  where 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  the  great  champion  of  the  Pro- 
testant faith,  fell  covered  with  wounds  amid  Croatian 
plunderers.  The  Swedish  horse  fought  fiercely  to 
recover  his  mangled  and  breathless  body.  Glorious 
in  life,  consistent  and  glorious  in  death,  the  morning 
saw  him  on  his  knees  fervent  in  prayer,  as  if  every- 
thing depended  on  God  ;  the  day  beheld  him  spurring 
his  noble  charger  into  the  heat  of  every  danger,  as 
if  all  depended  on  his  single  prowess.  Wounded  by 
two  bails  he  fainted  in  his  saddle,  was  thrown  from 
his  horse,  and  breathed  his  last,  without  one  attend- 
ant, beneath  the  trampling  melee  of  foes  and  friends. 
Peace  to  the  Christian  hero,  who  fought  and  fell  for 
liberty  of  conscience !  Be  it  never  forgotten  that  this 
it  was  which  the  church  of  Rome  denied  to,  and 
denies  the  world  ;  and  which  the  victorious  Protest- 
ants of  Germany,  after  thirty  years  of  warfare  and 
blood,  have  never  yet  denied  to  their  fellow-country- 
men of  the  church  of  Rome. 

The  initials  of  the  monarch's  name  are  inscribed 
on  a  rough  upright  stone  in  the  centre  of  the  cross, 
and  on  another,  u  Gustavus  Adolphus,  King  of  Swe- 
den, fell  here  for  Libertv  of  Conscience." 


LEIPS1C. 

In  the  arsenal  at  Vienna  I  saw  the  buff  war-coat 
in  which  he  died.  To  preserve  the  stones  on  his 
grave,  and  the  trees  near,  from  the  destroying  knives 
of  pilgrims,  there  is  a  post  and  block  of  wood, 
erected  for  the  very  purpose  of  satisfying  the  strange, 
yet  natural  desire  of  man  to  commemorate,  it  matters 
not  how  perishably,  his  visit  to  such  a  spot.  This 
wood  is  covered  with  letter  upon  letter,  till  neither 
names  or  initials  are  very  easily  decipherable.  I 
gathered  a  green  leaf  from  one  of  the  rustling  pop- 
lars, gazed  long  upon  the  spot,  walked  all  about  the 
scene  of  that  sad  tragedy,  and  drove  back  to  Leipsic. 
It  was  along  this  road  that  Wallenstein  led  back  his 
discomfited  forces,  and  caused  Te  Deum  to  be  sung 
for  a  victory,  which  was  claimed,  and  with  greater 
reason,  by  the  Swedes.  It  was  along  this  road  that 
the  ferocious  Pappenheim*  was  borne,  declaring,  in 
the  agonies  of  death,  that  he  died  with  pleasure, 
since  hk  was  certain  that  the  most  implacable  enemy 
of  his  religion  had  perished  on  the  same  field. 

The  account  of  this  obstinate  and  sanguinary  con- 
test is  given  in  "  The  History  of  the  Thirty  Years' 
War,"  by  Schiller,  with  wonderful  animation.  We 
stand  with  the  historian  and  the  poet  upon  the  very 
field  ,  we  see  the  devotions  of  the  Swedish  army, 
listen  to  their  hymn,  hear  the  sound  of  their  trum- 
pets. We  can  follow  the  King  to  his  very  fall ;  and 
the  terrible  fierceness  of  the  combatants,  after  the 
death  of  Gustavus  was  known,  is  present  to  the  eye. 
Cannon  were  taken  and  retaken ;  whole  regiments 

*  On  his  forehead  two  red  streaks  were  perceptible,  with 
which  nature  had  marked  him  at  his  birth.  These  appeared, 
V/henever  in  a  passion,  even  in  his  later  years. 

Sc/uZ/er's  History  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War, 


WO  LEIPSIC. 

lay  dead  on  their  ground ;  Count  Piccolomini  had 
seven  horses  shot  under  him  ;  Wallenstein  rode  safe 
amid  the  death-shower,  as  if  he  bore  a  charmed  life  : 
darkness  alone  put  an  end  to  the  battle,  and  the 
trumpet  of  victory  was  sounded  in  either  camp. 

The  appearance  of  the  city  of  Leipsic  is  to  me 
pleasing-,  and  has  a  character  in  it.  The  square  and 
two  or  three  of  the  streets  have  a  something  stately 
and  ancient  in  their  aspect. 

At  Leipsic,  the  great  mart  for  books,  I  had  looked 
for  a  greater  display  than  elsewhere  in  the  shops  of 
the  booksellers,  but  this  was  far  from  being  the  case. 
There  is  no  such  comforting  sight  in  the  whole  town 
as  the  inner  or  upper  apartments  of  a  country  book- 
seller in  England  do  often  present.  The  place  has 
only  its  own  proportion  of  printers  and  publishers ; 
and  to  judge  from  two  English  works  I  saw  lately 
got  up  in  Leipsic,  1  should  say  nothing  could  be  more 
coarse  and  wretched  than  the  paper,  the  types,  the 
ink,  and  the  binding  of  these  volumes. 

It  is,  1  think,  to  be  regretted  that  the  Germans 
will  not  adopt  the  Roman  letters  in  the  publication 
of  their  own  works.  1  am  sure  that  it  would  greatly 
tend  to  spread  the  knowledge  of  their  ianguage  ; 
and  that  it  would  not  only  facilitate  their  own  stu- 
dies in  the  various  languages  of  Europe,  but  would 
open  wrider  the  door  of  intercourse  between  Ger- 
many and  England  more  especially  It  is  a  fond 
attachment  to  their  father-land,  and  to  every  thing 
which  their  fathers  have  handed  down  to  them,  that 
accounts  for  this  abiding  prejudice  But  surely, 
speaking  of  the  nations  of  Europe  now,  as  one  great 
family  of  brothers  at  peace,  the  one  should  yield  to 
the  many.  1  am  sure  that  I  am  not  mistaken  in  pro- 
nouncing the  German  character,  both  as  printed  and 


LEIPSIC.  221 

written,  a  repellant  to  many  minds  of  power  and 
cultivation  ;  and  that  where  in  England  we  should 
have  two  hundred  men  who  would  read  German  in 
the  Roman  character,  we  now  have  not  two.  It 
enters  not  into  the  early  studies  of  any  English  youth 
to  learn  German.  This  must  be  a  pursuit  of  his 
choice,  an  acquisition  of  his  manhood ;  and  by  that 
time  he  has  generally  contracted  such  a  love  of  the 
matter  of  any  thing  he  may  design  to  read,  that  he 
is  impatient  of  any  such  bar  to  his  eye's  glance  as  a 
character  to  which  he  has  never  been  accustomed, 
and  some  of  the  letters  of  which  have  a  bewildering 
resemblance  to  each  other  in  the  eye  of  the  begin- 
ner. 

There  are  pleasing  promenades  all  about  the 
town  of  Leipsic  The  Plassenbourg  is  a  fine  old 
citadel; — small,  but  the  masonry  of  it  solid,  black, 
and  picturesque.  There  is  a  botanical  garden  not 
far  from  the  gates  :  it  is  open  to  the  public.  There 
are  pleasant  walks,  prettily  placed  seats,  summer- 
houses,  and  a  well  fancied  Chinese  temple  with  bells 
that  jingle  in  the  wind  ;  a  narrow  inconsiderable 
stream  runs  at  the  bottom  of  this  pleasure-ground  ; 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  garden  is  a  fair  green  space, 
where  some  large  and  beautiful  willows  droop  mourn- 
fully over  a  white  cenotaph,  erected  to  the  memory 
of  Poniatowski,  the  last  of  the  Poles.  The  rivulet 
near,  an  obstacle  which  has  scarce  depth  and  width 
enough  to  stay  a  well-mounted  fox-hunter,  is  the 
fatal  Elster.  Here  sunk  horse  and  rider;  here  sunk 
hundreds  of  the  flying  soldiery  of  France  ;  and  slaugh- 
ter was  busy  all  about  this  green  bank,  where,  never- 
theless, the  primrose  has  often  since  spread  as 
sweetly  as  ever,  and  the  lily  gay  has  shone  up  pure 


2Sft  LEIPSiC. 

and  innocent,  as  though  the  world  were  so,  and  might 
be  trusted. 

Heavens  !  how  man  mars  this  green  and  flowery 
earth  we  tread  upon  !  and  how  proud  is  he  of  his 
polluting  lordship  over  it !  I  often  think  of  that  sweet 
ballad,  "  The  Cruel  Brother ;  or,  The  Bride's  Tes- 
tament,"* and  the  wild  burden  that  runs  all  through 
it.  There  you  have  the  world  of  nature,  and  the 
world  of  man,  as  awfully  and  mournfully  contrasted 
as  they  ever  were  by  poet.  Youth,  beauty,  love, 
blushes,  gay  attire,  wedlock,  murder,  and  the  wind- 
ing sheet ;  these  shift  rapidly  before  you,  yet  there 
is  nature,  constant,  gay,  sweet,  unchanging. 

I  think,  and  1  rejoice  to  think,  that  the  world  has 
grown  somewhat  wiser  about  the  sad  and  melancholy 
game  of  war.  My  own  feelings  were  always  alive 
to  the  miseries  it  brings  in  its  train,  and  yet  of  such 
inconsistencies  are  we  all  made  up,  that  I  confess  to 
the  having  experienced  feelings  of  contentment,  joy, 
and  pride,  in  the  camp  and  the  bivouac,  which  1  may 
look  for  again,  perhaps,  in  vain.  There  is  such  an 
absence  of  care  under  your  canvass-home,  that  shifts 
at  the  trumpet's  sound,  such  pleasures  in  the  night 
of  lonely  watchfulness,  such  health  and  lightness  in 

*   A   FRAGMENT   OF   THE   BALLAD. 

"  She  leaned  her  o'er  the  saddle  bow, 
With  a  heigh-ho !  and  a  lily  gay, 
To  give  him  a  kiss  ere  she  did  go, 
As  the  primrose  spreads  so  sweetly. 

"  He  has  ta'en  a  knife  baith  lang  and  sharp, 
With  a  heigh-ho !  and  a  lily  gay, 
And  stabbed  the  bonny  bride  to  the  heart, 
A  s  the  primrose  spreads,  so  sweetly." 


POTSDAM.  223 

the  early  march,  such  a  proud  exciting  throb,  such 
high  hope, — 

"  When  front  to  front  the  banner' d  hosts  combine, 
Halt  ere  they  close,  and  form  the  dreadful  line, 
When  all  is  still  on,  death's  devoted  soil." 

For  these  emotions,  many  who  regard  glory  as  a 
bright  and  bursting  bubble,  consent  to  wear  the 
sword,  and  learn  to  love  it. 

Never,  however,  I  well  remember,  did  I  curse 
war  more  heartily  than  when,  in  the  winter  of  1813, 
I  saw  baggage-waggon  after  baggage-waggon  pass 
through  Verdun,  laden  with  pale  and  sickly  French 
boys,  who  returned  wounded  and  debilitated  from  this 
field  of  Leipsic,  and  marked  among  them  young  lads 
of  gentle  birth  (the  Garde  cPHonneur),  who  had  been 
torn  from  the  quiet  home  reluctantly,  to  combat 
against  the  huge  and  hardy  German  cuirassiers ; 
and  again  I  felt  the  like  pain  when,  at  a  later  period 
of  the  war,  I  saw  a  battalion  of  young  and  beardless 
children  march  out  of  Troyes,  shouting,  from  school- 
boy pride,  the  usual  cry  of  u  Vive  PEmpereur  /" 
but  guessing,  perhaps,  themselves,  what  their  deject- 
ed officers  well  knew,  that  they  were  but  as  lambs 
going  to  the  sacrifice. 

I  am  glad  to  have  seen  Potsdam,  the  cradle  and 
school  of  those  military  tactics,  and  that  discipline, 
of  which  Frederick  the  Great  was  the  father.  It  is 
a  barrack  still :  in  the  yard  of  the  palace  recruits 
are  still  tortured  by  the  drill-serjeant ;  and  on  every 
side  you  see  squads  of  instruction,  and  stiff  figures, 
moving  slowly  to  the  balance-step,  marching,  facing, 
wheeling,  and  dressing,  under  smart  and  severe  in- 
structors. I  was  surprised,  however,  to  witness,  at 
*he  guard-mounting,  something  most  informal  and 
18 


224  POTSDAM. 

unmilitary.  Just  before  the  last  call  of  assembly, 
which  brought  out  the  commandant  and  all  the  officers 
of  the  garrison,  the  adjutant,  or  town-major,  who  had 
already  inspected  the  guards,  wheeled  them  back, 
and  marched  them  past,  drums  beating  and  drum- 
major  saluting,  giving,  in  fact,  a  regular  rehearsal  of 
the  grand  guard-mounting,  on  the  very  ground,  and 
within  three  minutes  of  the  appearance  of  the  com- 
mander and  the  usual  mounting  of  the  duties.  The 
Prussian  soldiers  are  certainly  magnificent  young 
men  :  if  they  have  a  fault,  as  soldiers,  it  is  that,  as 
a  body,  they  are  far  too  young  ;  but  they  are  very 
handsome,  very  erect,  and  clean-limbed  :  their  cloth- 
ing (blue)  is  admirably  made,  and  most  becoming. 
They  are  clean  and  smart  under  arms,  and  steady  as 
a  wall.  Still  it  is  my  opinion,  and  I  attentively 
watched  their  system  of  drill  in  many  places,  that 
we  in  England  have  just  struck  upon  the  happy 
medium.  The  laxness  of  field-discipline  in  France 
makes  the  French  soldier  unsteady  on  parade,  and, 
placing  no  habitual  check  upon  the  eager  restless- 
ness of  his  character,  causes  him  to  be  often  dange- 
rously self-willed  and  insubordinate  in  the  field  of 
battle.  The  severity,  on  the  contrary,  of  German* 
discipline  makes  and  leaves  the  soldier  a  mere 
machine,  to  advance  or  retreat,  charge,  fire,  stand, 
or  even  fly,  unhesitatingly,  when  ordered,  and  only 
when  ordered. 

I  saw  not  such  a  thing  on  the  continent  of  Europe 
as  what  we  call,  and  my  military  reader  will  under- 
stand me,  a  saucy  English  light  company,  or  any  thing 

•  It  is  remarkable  that  the  Prussians  never  fought  better  than 
during  their  "  Liberation  War,"  as  they  proudly  and  justly  terra 
it,  in  1813,  1814;  yet  were  their  troops  of  that  time,  in  all  cir- 
cumstances of  composition,  drill,  and  military  orrW.  inferior  fo 
•  fhev  had  been;  and  what  the? 


POTSDAM. 

resembling  those  true  old  English  grenadiers  who 
could  all  sing  the  old  song,  with  its  noisy  tow,  row, 
rows,  in  harsh  and  happy  chorus.  These  be  the 
men,  and  this  was  the  free  spirit  and  feeling  which, 
controlled  and  guided  by  a  firm  judicious  hand  that 
knew  when  to  check  the  rein,  and  when  to  give  the 
head,  won  for  England  her  laurels. 

Repeatedly  I  saw  on  the  Continent  troops  of  most 
warlike,  brave,  and  martial  appearance  ;  but  I  al- 
ways felt  the  truth  of  our  ambassador's  reply  to 
Frederick : — "  Think  you  an  equal  number  of  Eng- 
lish soldiers  could  be  found  to  beat  those  men?" — 
pointing  to  the  elite  of  his  famous  guard,  an  elite 
composed  of  men  of  all  nations  remarkable  for  their 
fine  stature,  their  discipline,  and  their  prowess, — 
said  the  monarch.  "  Sire,  I  cannot  answer  you ; 
but  I  am  sure  that  half  the  number  would  try." — 
That  was,  is,  and  will,  I  hope,  ever  be  the  character 
of  British  soldiers  in  the  field.  "  Dare  greatly,  do 
greatly,"  is  a  glorious  motto. 

You  cannot  deny  that  Potsdam  is  a  handsome  town; 
but  yet  it  does  not  please  :  it  is  too  regular,  too 
tame  ;  it  looks  like  a  place  ordered  to  be  built,  and 
built  to  order.  No  private  taste  has  been  consulted, 
no  private  taste  has  been  permitted  to  exhibit  itself. 
The  people  at  Potsdam,  be  they  rich  or  poor,  live 
in  handsome  barrack-rooms ;  and,  when  they  put 
their  heads  out  of  the  window,  may  look  up  and  down 
straight,  stately,  still  streets. 

1  went  into  the  church  of  the  court  and  the  garri- 
son, to  see  the  tomb  of  Frederick  the  Great.  It  is 
in  a  kind  of  cell  or  chamber, — plain  black  marble, 
unadorned.  I  had  thought,  and  I  have  for  these 
twenty  years,  that  the  inscription  on  his  tomb  was, 
;|  Hie  Cineres  ubique  Fnma  ;"  but  1  did  not  find  any 


226  POTSDAM. 

thing  save  his  name.  However,  his  fame  is  every 
where ;  and  it  would  seem  that  the  Prussians  are 
content  to  live  on  it,  for  it  is  ever  in  their  mouths ; 
it  is  all  Frederick  le  Grand.  The  history,  the  ances- 
tral dignity,  the  military  renown  of  Prussia,  centre 
in  his  name. 

Sans  Souci  is  a  strange  name  for  a  palace  ;  yet 
here,  whatever  freedom  from  care  Frederick  could 
know  he  enjoyed.  It  is  a  most  sensible  building, 
combining  the  comforts  of  a  private  dwelling,  and  the 
magnificent  appendages  of  a  royal  residence.  Noth- 
ing can  be  more  quiet,  more  simple,  indeed,  even  to 
a  tastleless  plainness,  than  the  apartments  of  the 
king.  Nothing  can  be  more  luxurious  than  the 
splendid  double  portico ;  and  a  finer  gallery  for  the 
display  of  his  well-chosen  collection  of  pictures  could 
hardly  have  been  desired.  He  had  a  small,  still, 
circular  study,  filled  with  his  favourite  authors, — a 
shady  walk  in  his  garden  for  the  thoughtful  hour. 
The  graves  of  his  dogs,  the  only  favourites  he  had 
the  weakness  to  affect  a  fondness  for,  were  close  to 
his  terrace  ;  and  he  was  within  sound  of  the  parade- 
horn,  a  circumstance  as  important  to  him  as  to  the 
youngest  subaltern  in  his  guards 

Was  he  a  happy  man  this  Frederick  ?  I  could 
never  think  so  :  he  was  coldly  great :  severely  just 
in  his  internal  government,  but  to  this  his  sense  of 
justice  was  strangely  limited.  History  refuses  the 
title  (and  a  sacred  one  it  is)  of  Just,  to  the  partitioner 
of  Poland.  Was  he  happy  ? — the  man  who  smiled 
at  religion,  smiled  at  virtue,  smiled  before  a  battle, 
and  smiled  on  the  carnage-covered  field  !  1  think  not; 
but  he  made  Prussia  a  kingdom,  gave  her  promotion 
in  the  scale  of  nations,  and  she  naturally  reveres  his 
memory  as  her  greatest  benefactor. 

The  anecdotes  of  his  private  life  have  a  great 


POTSDAM. 

charm  for  readers,  especially  the  young,  and  are  more 
familiar,  indeed,  to  the  biography-devouring  boy 
than  to  the  older  man.  We  most  of  us  remember 
when  we  thought  him  the  greatest  character  that 
ever  lived  ;  to  have  such  power,  and  to  live  simply, 
as  though  he  had  it  not,  sounded  so  noble  ! — but  all 
this  I  regard  as  mere  taste,  a  good  one,  perhaps,  yet 
nothing  but  the  strong  bent  of  his  will  and  inclina- 
tion. He  had  a  quick  and  restless  mind,  which  fret- 
ted with  impatience  under  a  want  of  occupation  ; 
and  hence  these  methodical  divisions  of  his  day,  and 
his  hurrying  from  business  to  amusements,  which 
were  pursued  with  the  like  eagerness  for  the  allot- 
ted time.  The  portrait  of  Gustavus  Adolphus  hangs 
in  his  bed-room, — a  hero  of  another  and  a  nobler 
quality:  but  Frederick  was  the  more  wonderful  man  ; 
and  it  is  felt  as  a  privilege  to  walk  about  where  he 
did,  open  the  books  in  which  he  read,  sit  in  his  chair, 
look  from  his  window,  and  touch  the  small  chamber- 
clock,  which,  they  tell  you,  has  never  again  been 
wround  up  since  the  hour  of  his  death. 

No  traveller  fails  to  visit  the  chamber  appropri- 
ated to  Voltaire,  while  he  resided  with  the  King. 
It  is  remote,  that  is,  nearly  at  the  extremity  of  the 
building,  and  furnished  in  the  commonest  French 
taste  of  that  day, — a  strange  mixture  of  tawdriness 
and  meanness.  Voltaire  is  one  of  those  great  ge- 
niuses, to  whom  Providence  has  denied  that  best,  that 
only,  that  pure  fame,  the  love  of  posterity.  I  never 
heard  the  most  extravagant  admirer  of  Voltaire  pre- 
tend any  affection  for  the  personal  character  of  the 
author.  He  never  succeeded  in  attaching  the  heart 
of  a  reader:  he  was  just  the  man  for  Frederick,  who 
looked  only  to  the  head  in  others,  and  thought  only 
of  the  head  in  his  own  person. 
18* 


^25  BERLIN. 

His  Gallery  of  Paintings  was  a  noble  one.  There 
are  so  many  ways  of  choosing,  enjoying,  and  speak- 
ing  about  paintings,  that  we  must  understand  what 
the  possessor's  peculiar  taste  was,  before  we  give 
him  the  credit  of  the  collection.'  The  Vertumnus 
and  Pomona  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  the  u  Ecce  Ho- 
mo" of  Raphael,  the  Sleeping  Venus  of  Titian,  are 
considered  the  three  master-pieces  of  this  gallery. 
Nothing  can  be  more  opposed,  each  to  the  other,  in 
subject  as  in  style,  than  these  three  paintings.  For 
my  own  part,  I  confess  that  I  gazed  with  much  high- 
er satisfaction  on  some  of  the  wonderful  conceptions 
of  Rubens,  and  some  of  the  very  hallowed  and  pure 
productions  of  Vandyke.  The  Isaac  blessing  Jacob 
of  this  last  painter  is  a  perfect  picture  ;  and  there  is 
a  pendant  to  it  by  an  artist,  whose  name  has  drop- 
ped out  of  my  mind,  of  Isaac  blessing  Esau,  of 
which  the  affecting  expression  is  such  that  the  quick 
judgment  of  the  heart  at  once  pronounces  it  a  trea- 
sure. The  new  palace  is  a  fine  building,  and  exact- 
ly adapted  for  summer  fetes.  I  cannot  myself  admire 
the  hall,  the  walls  of  which  are  encrusted  with  spars 
and  crystals.  This  strange  mosaic  is  to  me  intolera- 
ble by  the  light  of  day,  in  a  spacious  and  lofty  sa- 
loon ;  it  suits  only  with  the  shaded  grotto,  hollowed 
beneath  the  rock.  The  apartments  are  richly  fur- 
nished,— and  it  is  altogether  a  princely  pleasure- 
house. 

It  is  only  four  German  miles  from  Potsdam  to  Ber- 
lin. I  drove  through  long,  strait,  uniform  streets, 
intersected  at  right  angles  by  others  of  like  appear- 
ance. I  crossed  some  portion  of  the  city  that  had 
rather  a  graver  and  oider  (but  never  ancient)  aspect, 
passed  the  great  palace,  crossed  a  bridge,  and  found 
myself  in  a  most  noble  imposing  street,  between  the 
finest  and  most  majestic  public  edifices  of  this  capi- 


BERLIN.  229 

fed.  The  Brandenburgh  gate,  by  which  this  fine 
street  is  entered  from  the  west,  is  a  very  grand  ob- 
ject ;  it  is  an  imitation  of  the  Propylaeum  of  Athens, 
and  is  surmounted  by  a  triumphal  car,  drawn  by  four 
spirited  horses,  the  Goddess  of  Victory  standing 
erect  in  the  chariot,  and  displaying  the  dark  eagle 
of  Prussia.  Extending  about  half  the  length  of  this 
wide  street  is  a  spacious  promenade,  planted  with 
lime-trees  and  horse-chesnuts.  This  splendid  quar- 
ter of  Berlin  is  called,  from  the  size  and  beauty  of 
the  former,  Unter  den  Linden.  Near  this  I  sojourn- 
ed, in  a  most  comfortable  hotel,  called  the  City  of 
Rome. 

Certainly  the  whole  of  this  scene  has  in  it  so 
much  of  grandeur  and  majesty,  that  you  would  ex- 
pect to  see  splendid  equipages  rolling  by  in  constant 
succession,  and  the  wide  space  divided  between  ra- 
pid carriages  passing  each  other,  in  the  safe  arena 
prepared  for  them. 

It  is  not  so  :  you  may  gaze  from  your  window  for 
an  hour ;  as  long  may  you  stand  near  the  magnifi- 
cent portal  at  the  Brandenburgh  gate, — you  will  not 
see  half-a-dozen  carriages  in  motion.  Take  the 
hour  of  the  day  when  they  drive  out  for  the  pro- 
menade, on  the  road  to  Charlottenburgh,  perhaps  a 
dozen  or  twenty  private  carriages  may,  at  long  dis- 
tances and  intervals,  be  seen.  The  vehicles  for  the 
conveyance  of  the  public  from  one  quarter  of  the 
city  to  the  other  are  small  open  carriages,  on  four 
wheels,  with  a  hood,  and  drawn  by  one  horse,  hav- 
ing that  high  wooden  collar  which  belongs,  in  your 
fancy,  to  the  sledge  of  St.  Petersburgh.  Such  are 
the  more  frequently  passing  objects  in  this  street  of 
palaces, — such  the  carriages  that  ply  in  a  stand  close 
to  the  first  hotel  in  Berlin.  There  is  yet  another 
feature   connected   with   them  very  peculiar:   the 


I 

230  BERLIN. 

drivers  of  these  sorry  conveyances  are  all  neatly 
dressed  in  a  livery  of*  grey,  with  hats  surmounted 
by  the  cockade,  and  are  altogether  far  more  cleanly 
and  respectable  in  their  appearance  than  the  hack- 
ney-coachmen of  either  London,  Paris,  or  Vienna. 
The  reader  will  probably  infer  from  this  trifle,  with 
myself,  that  Berlin  is  regulated  like  a  barrack  :  for, 
indeed,  all  the  regulations  which  fall  under  the  ob- 
servation of  the  stranger  bespeak  a  good  vigilant 
interior  economy,  of  the  military  cast.  As  to  the 
city,  it  seems  built  upon  expectation  that  Prussia 
will  some  day  or  other  require  such  a  metropolis, 
and  will,  when  she  has  made  her  fortune,  provide 
all  things  conformable  to  the  great  and  extravagant 
design  of  the  builder. 

Will  a  northern  conqueror  ever  drive  under  the 
triumphal  gate  of  Brandenburgh  ?  The  scene  is  well 
adapted  to  a  victorious  entry :  a  Russian  army  might 
halt,  and  find  space  for  its  columns  between  that 
gate  and  the  royal  palace  of  Prussia.  The  noble 
and  generous  patriotism  displayed  by  the  Prussians, 
in  their  "  Liberation  War,"  has  received,  per- 
haps, something  of  a  check,  by  the  jealousy  with 
which  the  government  watches  over  that  spirit  in 
her  youth  to  which  she  owes,  and  to  which  she 
should  ever  remember  that  she  owes,  her  political 
existence  ;  all  that  makes  it  valuable  was,  in  reality, 
forced  upon  the  crown  of  Prussia  by  the  voice  and 
the  deed  of  the  nation. 

Frederick  the  Great  would  have  frenchified  his 
good  subjects,  had  it  been  possible  :  they  were  re- 
luctant, and  slow  to  learn  the  lesson.  The  war  of 
the  Revolution,  and  the  victories  and  injuries  of 
Napoleon,  who  violently  outraged  all  their  feelings, 
totally  effaced  the  faint  traces  of  French  taste  and 
French  principles,  which  Frederick  had  but  liffhtlv 


BERLIN.  231 

engraven  on  the  mind  of  his  subjects.  They  lay 
breathless  for  the  opportune  moment  to  declare 
themselves  true  Germans ;  and  they  nobly  triumph- 
ed. They  are  now  animated  by  a  haughty,  I  should 
almost  say  a  vain,  spirit:  but  it  is  not  like  what  we 
should  call  patriotism.  I  should  say  that  every 
Prussian  feels  a  sort  of  esprit  de  corps :  they  drink 
the  anniversary  of  victories  ;  and  they  forget  that 
they  ever  have  been  vanquished.  It  was  impossi- 
ble to  suppress  a  smile,  in  walking  through  the  mag- 
nificent Saloon  of  Arms  in  their  arsenal,  to  see,  at 
every  yard,  a  clean  new  French  banner  suspended, 
things  not  taken  in  the  field,  but  of  all  ages,  dates, 
and  belonging  to  all  descriptions  of  corps,  brought 
from  Paris,  as  trophies  of  their  two  visits.  How- 
ever, they  may  be  largely  forgiven  any  insult  to  the 
French  arms;  for  never  did  Napoleon  appear  to  the 
eyes  of  the  world  so  little,  so  jealous,  so  vindictive, 
as  in  his  treatment  of  Prussia,  so  coarse  and  un- 
knightly  as  in  his  mean  and  offensive  conduct  to  her 
patriot  queen. 

One  effect  of  this  spirit  among  the  Prussians  is, 
that,  although  French  is  universally  read  and  spoken 
by  all  their  educated  men,  they  have  entirely  dis- 
carded the  use  of  it  in  conversation,  and  can  with 
difficulty  be  induced  to  speak  it,  even  where  com- 
mon courtesy  to  the  foreigner  might  excuse  their 
departure  from  a  resolution,  the  maintaining  of 
which  they  seem  to  identify  both  with  personal  and 
national  dignity.  It  requires  a  little  manoeuvre  to 
make  them  talk.  I  found  one,  which  a  laughing 
friend  had  given  me,  never  failing  in  its  success:— 
when  asked  if  you  speak  German,  to  say  u  No  ;  I 
am  sorry  to  say  I  do  not ;  but  I  regret  it  the  less  as 
I  well  know  the  Germans  to  be  a  highly  educated 


232  BERLIN. 

people,  and  all  those  whom  I  should  feel  most  de- 
sirous to  become  acquainted  with  doubtless  converse 
fluently  in  the  French  language."  This  made  pro- 
vokingly  short,  or  politely  and  flatteringly  lengthen- 
ed, according  to  the  party,  invariably  drew  them 
out :  the  foreheads  rose,  the  very  mustaches  relax- 
ed a  something  of  their  pride,  and,  on  all  sides, 
French  was  poured  forth,  if  not  with  a  very  pleasing 
pronunciation,  still,  in  general,  with  a  great  com- 
mand of  language. 

I  only  remained  six  days  in  Berlin.  All  things 
which  the  traveller  is  directed  to,  as  worthy  his  at- 
tention, I  visited.  The  palace,  the  arsenal,  the 
museum,  and  a  fine  collection  of  pictures,*  which 
have  not  yet  been  conveniently  placed,  but  are  to 
be  disposed  in  a  handsome  building  preparing  for 
them  and  such  others  as  are  to  form  the  National 
Gallery.  I  suppose,  and  I  almost  regret  to  think, 
that  the  collection  at  Sans  Souci  will  be  removed 
from  its  admirable  locale  there,  to  adorn  the  capital. 
The  theatres  at  Berlin  are  most  beautiful :  I  visited 
them  all.  The  large  Opera-house  is  magnificent : 
I  saw  a  tragedy  represented  there.  1  was  by  no 
means  so  pleased  with  the  performers  as  with  those 
of  Vienna  ;  but  it  is  fair  to  add,  that  the  piece  did 
not  excite  in  me  the  like  interest,  nor  could  I  follow 
the  subject  through.  Nevertheless,  1  boldly  pro- 
nounce them  inferior  actors  to  those  of  Vienna  ;  for 
when  I  cannot  catch  the  author  I  look  attentively  at 
the  stage,  as  I  would  at  a  great  picture,  and  at  all 
those  passages,  where  in  every  drama  effective 
situations  occur,  my  eye  seldom   fails  to  satisfy  me 

*  Among  these,  the  Marriage  of  St.  Katharine,  by  Julio  Ro- 
mano, is,  to  my  taste,  a  most  exquisite  production. 


BERLIN.  233 

whether  the  actor  is  true.  The  new  theatre,  which 
is  smaller,  is  very  elegant  and  commodious.  In  ano- 
ther theatre,  also  a  very  good  sized  and  convenient 
one,  I  was  present  at  the  performance  of  Cenerento- 
la.  The  house  was  crowded  to  excess,  and  the  or- 
chestra was  superlatively  good.  At  the  breaking 
up,  the  delay  caused  by  the  carriages  enabled  me  as 
thoroughly  to  see  a  large  portion  of  the  society  of 
Berlin  as  a  foreigner  might,  who  should  stand  on  a 
Saturday  night,  in  May,  in  the  crush-room  at  our 
Opera-house  in  the  Haymarket  :  of  a  truth,  the 
contrast  is  sufficiently  great.  The  number  of  equi- 
pages may  sound  inconsistent  with  what  I  have  be- 
fore said,  but,  as  I  stood  near  the  door,  I  was  ena- 
bled to  see  that  these  were,  for  the  most  part,  hired 
carriages,  and  that  there  were  not  thirty  of  that 
class,  which  belong  to  the  regular  establishment  of 
a  nobleman  or  man  of  fortune.  I  was  most  particu- 
larly pleased  in  the  great  theatre,  on  two  occasions, 
to  observe  the  quiet,  attentive,  and  unostentatious 
deportment  of  the  young  princes,  although,  being- 
seated  in  the  royal  box,  a  vast  and  splendid  one, 
fronting  the  stage,  they  were  necessitated  to  observe 
the  usual  forms ;  forms,  I  think,  desirable  to  be  kept 
up,  and  which  it  is,  perhaps,  to  be  regretted  that 
the  King  himself  so  indolently  evades  :  he  was  pre- 
sent in  a  retired  side-box.  Between  the  acts  they 
leaned  against  the  stove  at  the  back  of  the  royal 
box,  in  conversation  with  their  aide-de-camps,  The 
very  instant  the  performance  was  about  to  recom- 
mence, they  came  forward  quietly  to  their  seats, 
and  gave  it  their  full  attention :  their  aide-de-camps 
sat  very  considerably  behind  them,  and  near  the 
wall  stood  several  of  the  royal  domestics.  A  prince 
^f  blood  royal,  especially  in  a  despotic  government. 


234  BERLIN. 

should  appear  as  one.  A  king  walking  about  side- 
by-side  with  you,  with  his  hands  behind  him,  who 
can  do  just  what  he  pleases  with  you  by  a  scratch 
of  his  pen,  is  a  sort  of  take-in.  No,  I  should  say, 
you  are  a  king,  a  kind  and  a  good  one,  (for  that  the 
King  of  Prussia  is,)  but  still  a  king,  and,  therefore, 
pray,  my  dear  man,  keep  your  distance.  I  was  much 
amused  by  two  gentlemen  near  me,  speaking  of  the 
youngest  prince :  one  asking,  eagerly,  "  Why  he 
has  got  the  epaulets  of  a  major ;  when  was  this  ?  I 
never  heard  of  this." — u  Oh,"  said  the  other,  u  he 
has  been  promoted  since  the  last  review  ;  and  1  as- 
sure you,  that  he  is  a  good  promising  young  officer, 
and  understands  his  duty  in  the  field." — u  I  dare  to 
say  he  is  quite  happy  now,"  rejoined  the  other,  look- 
ing back  at  him  with  evident  satisfaction.  There 
was  a  something  strange  to  the  English  ear  in  the 
importance  attached  to  his  military  rank,  as  if  prince 
went  for  nothing  at  the  age  of  nineteen.  However, 
they  are  truly  a  military  people ;  and,  indeed,  to 
say  the  truth,  although  the  garrison  of  Berlin  is  not 
very  large,  from  the  constant  appearance  of  uni- 
forms, and  soldiers  in  all  places,  and  at  all  hours, 
Berlin  has  the  air  of  a  capital  occupied  by  some 
well-behaved  foreign  force,  and  cheerful  and  pro- 
tected under  their  strict  discipline. 

But  with  all  their  martial  display  in  Berlin,  they 
have  no  guard-mounting,  like  that  in  St.  James's 
Park;  no  show,  like  that  troop  of  the  Life  or  Horse 
Guards,  with  their  polished  cuirasses,  and  long-tail- 
ed black  horses,  as  they  wind  down  through  the 
green  avenue  of  the  Park,  and  afterwards,  as,  when 
relieved,  the  old  guard  rides  calmly  along  Whitehall, 
and  up  Regent-Street.  There  is  nothing  like  our 
Life  or  Horse  Guards  to  be  seen  in  any  capital  in 


BERLIN.  235 

Europe.  I  cannot  say  the  same  of  our  Foot  Guards ; 
for,  though  they  are  very  fine  troops,  they  are  not 
picked  men.  They  are  not  an  elite ;  a  guard  should 
be  ;  and  should  be  kept  up,  and  never  brought  into 
action,  or  engaged  but  on  an  emergency :  men  so 
formed  and  considered  will  never,  never  disappoint 
the  expectation  entertained  of  them.  Look  only  to 
the  Life  Guards  at  Waterloo  ;  men  who  had,  literal- 
ly, passed  their  lives  in  stables  and  at  guard-fires. 
I  have  seen  individuals  of  the  Foot  Guards,  on  duty 
at  Carlton-House,  so  ill-made,  so  slouching  in  their 
gait,  and  their  fine  appointments  in  such  dull  order, 
and  so  ill  put  on,  that  I  have  really  cast  my  eye 
about  in  fear,  lest  some  foreign  officers  should  pass 
by.  I  particularly  recollect  on  one  occasion  I  saw 
three  Russian  officers,  remarkably  fine  soldierly-look- 
ing young  men,  coming  down  Pali-Mall,  and  the 
sentinels  were  relieving  :  out  of  the  whole  relief, 
except  the  corporal,  there  was  not  one  fine,  smart- 
looking  soldier.  I  saw  these  officers  attentively  ob- 
serving them,  and  talking  with  each  other  in  that 
quiet  way,  in  which,  as  modest  gentlemen,  they 
could  alone  express  their  disappointment.  I  was  so 
vexed,  that,  knowing  what  truly  fine  corps  the  Guards 
are,  in  a  body  under  arms,  I  could  hardly  forbear 
going  up  and  requesting  them  to  attend  a  brigade 
field-day,  before  they  formed  any  opinion  of  the 
British  Foot  Guards :  however,  I  did  not,  for  I  quite 
felt  with  them,  that  not  one  of  the  grenadiers  there 
ought  ever  to  have  been  received  into  the  corps. 
I  should  say,  that  almost  the  only  thing  in  which  our 
army  must  yield  to  foreign  troops  is  the  set-up,  the 
martial  carriage,  the  military  tread.  There  is  not 
a  finer  guard-mounting  on  the  Continent  than  there 
is  alwavs  in  the  Dublin  garrison,  For  cleanliness. 
19 


23tS  BERLIN. 

handling  of  the  firelocks,  carnage,  and  marching,  when 
actually  under  arms,  our  English  soldiers  are  equal  to 
any  in  the  world  ;  but  the  moment  they  are  dismissed, 
or  the  moment  they  march  at  ease,  under  a  careless 
non-commissioned  officer,  or  are  left  to  stand  sentry  by 
themselves,  with  no  reproving  eye  on  them,  they  cease 
to  look  like  what  they  really  are,  and  can  appear.  I 
am  well  aware  that  there  is  a  moral  reason  for  a  great 
deal  of  this  slouching,  which  must  always  strongly 
operate  on  the  mind  of  the  British  soldier  while  on 
home-service.  The  foreign  grenadier  walks  about 
among  the  citizens  with  an  erect  carriage  and  a  firm 
tread,  proud  of  being  a  soldier,  and  knows  that  the 
more  he  makes  of  himself,  by  displaying  his  person 
to  advantage,  and  evidencing  his  discipline,  the  more 
he  shall  be  admired.  With  soldier  Jack,it  is  not  so  : 
they  all  know  this;  and  without  there  is  a  large 
group  of  them  together,  they  really  are  so  sensitive, 
and  so  alive  to  ridicule,  that  they  dare  not  walk  as 
they  know  they  could  and  should  :  a  very  handsome 
and  vain  young  man,  or  an  ugly,  old,  brown  serjeant, 
are  the  only  exceptions.  There  is  nothing  the  com- 
mon people  in  England,  even  to  the  children,  so 
much  delight  in  as  the  lowering  and  laughing  at  all 
display  of  pride  in  a  common  soldier :  they  have 
many  a  saying,  and  many  a  trick  to  provoke  him 
with.  I  have  often,  from  a  window,  seen  and  smil- 
ed at  this  kind  of  thing.  "  Heads  up,  soldier!"  ut- 
tered by  a  little  ragged  urchin  of  a  chimney-sweep- 
er, will  disconcert  many  a  soldier  for  the  length  of 
a  street.  "  Lord,  what  a  fine  fellow  I  am  !"  and 
many  such  phrases,  will  do  the  like ;  whereas  by  a 
simple  lounging  gait  they  escape  it  all.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  explain  this  to  a  foreigner,  and  make 
him  enter  into  it :  but  there  is  not  a  British  soldier. 


BERLHV  2M 

from  the  Duke  of  York  to  the  young  drum-boy,  who 
is  not  aware  of  the  thing,  and  the  mass  of  the  com- 
mon people  know  it  also. 

Although  the  appearance  of  the  Prussian  soldiers 
is  very  pleasing,  from  their  youth,  their  fine  figures, 
their  becoming  uniform,  and  their  proud  erect 
marching,  yet  I  must  say,  that,  to  speak  as  a  soldier, 
the  old,  brown,  weather-stained  Austrians  seem  far 
better  adapted  for  the  toil  and  the  work  of  war ;  and 
I  think  the  time  will  yet  come  when  Prussia  may  re- 
pent of  a  system,  which  seems  to  me  ill  calculated 
to  form  an  army.  Austria  could  take  the  field  to- 
morrow with  veteran  forces  ;  Prussia  would  bring 
youthful  spirits,  among  whom  the  march,  the  camp, 
the  scanty  fare,  and  Suwarrow's  curse,  the  hospital, 
would  soon  make  greater  ravages  than  the  enemies 
arrayed  against  her. 

Times  and  modes  have  so  changed,  that  it  is  di- 
verting to  contrast  the  present  military  costume  of 
Prussia  with  that  of  the  past  age,  which  you  may  do 
at  any  hour  of  the  day,  for  Berlin  is  full  of  the  sta- 
tues of  the  great  officers  of  her  more  celebrated 
times.  There  are  enough  in  Wilhelmsplatz  alone 
to  form  a  council  of  war,  and  chief  among  them  old 
Ziethen,  whom  I  thank  the  sculptor  for  having  re- 
presented in  the  uniform  of  the  old  black  hussars. 
There  the  old  bo}'  stands  ready  to  mount  his  horse, 
and  just  as  he  may  have  looked  after  the  brilliant  ac- 
tion of  Tein,*  when  the  Prussian  army,  dispirited  by 
long  toils,  rushed  from  their  tents,  shouting,  "  Long- 
live  Ziethen  and  his  hussars !"    The  hussar  uniform 

•  By  which  he  delivered  the  rear  of  the  Prussian  army  on 
their  precipitate  retreat  from  Bohemia  in  the  disastrous  cam 
naisn  of  1744. 


238  BERLIN. 

(excepting  the  long  shapeless  waist)  is  less  altered 
than  any;  and,  I  doubt  not,  many  a  Prussian  hussar 
half-salutes  that  statue  to  this  day.  But  nothing  can 
look  more  quaint  and  comic  than  the  stiff  figure,  low 
hat,  broad  coat,  and  buttoned  gaiters  of  Prince  Anhalt 
of  Dessau,  in  the  square  before  the  palace.  If  you 
could  animate  him,  he  would  immediately  commence 
caning  these,  to  his  eye,  degenerate,  brown-haired 
boys,  who  cherish  on  either  side  something  of  the 
vain  and  waving  curl,  and  who  seldom  pass  him 
without  a  smile. 

The  busiest  part  of  Berlin  is  the  Konig-Strasse  : 
here,  and  in  the  square  behind  the  palace,  are  all 
the  principal  shops :  under  the  arcades,  in  this  last 
place,  are  those  which  appear  to  be  the  best  suppli- 
ed and  most  frequented.  1  noticed  in  the  frontis- 
piece to  the  literary  almanacks,  in  the  booksellers' 
windows,  the  heads  of  Byron  and  Walter  Scott,  in  the 
highest  places  of  honour,  after  Goethe  and  Schiller, 
and  this  in  a  circle  of  medallion  heads,  containing  a 
dozen,  shows  a  feeling  towards  England  and  English 
literature,  which,  instead  of  ourrece«\ing  haughtily 
as  a  tribute,  should  lead  us  to  reflect,  that  there  must 
be  a  something  like-minded  to  us  in  the  German,  or 
he  would  not  lavish  upon  us  all  this  adulation.  Nor 
is  their  acquaintance  with  our  literature  confined  to 
that  which  is  popular  in  the  passing  day,  they  read 
back  into  our  better  age ;  and  the  names  of  English 
poets,  philosophers,  and  historians,  are  familiar  to 
the  ears  of  the  educated  German.  The  students 
in  Berlin  may  be  seen,  in  large  groups,  near  the 
hall  of  the  University  at  their  class-hours,  and  met 
solitary,  or  in  pairs,  in  their  return  through  the 
streets ;   their  books  open,   or  tucked  under  their 


BERLIN  239 

arms,  and  their  faces  looking  occupied,  or  relieved, 
but  always  with  the  true  student  air.  They  much 
resemble,  to  my  eye,  the  class-groups  whom  I  have 
seen  hurrying  about  the  old  town  of  Edinburgh,  save 
the  military  forage-cap.  They  appear  to  claim,  and 
avail  themselves  of  the  privilege  of  boyhood,  long 
after  they  have  grown  into  men :  they  are  slovenly, 
hair  unkempt  and  hands  inky;  and  this  it  is,  1  think, 
which  does  so  revolt  our  English  university-men 
when  they  first  come  in  contact  with  German  scho- 
lars. 

The  coffee-house  aspect  of  Berlin  is,  like  that  of 
many  other  large  cities  in  Germany,  south  and  north, 
idle  and  profligate  :  but  that  traveller  would  be  de- 
ceived, I  think  who  should  judge  of  the  private  life 
of  Germans  from  that  peculiar  class  of  persons, 
which  form,  as  it  were,  a  race  of  themselves,  and 
are  found  floating  on  the  surface  of  society  all  over 
that  extensive  country.  There  are,  then,  in  Ger- 
many, a  vast  number  of  men,  who  seem  to  live  only 
among  cards  and  billiard-balls, — a  mark,  and  one  of 
the  worst,  which  a  very  long  war,  and  long  inter- 
course with  the  French  armies,  have  left  behind.  A 
great  number  of  these  are  unemployed  military  men, 
of  originally  idle  and  dissipated  habits  :  others  are 
of  a  class  which  made  money  enough  during  the  war, 
in  their  trades  and  occupations,  to  put  on  the  coats 
without  the  characters  of  gentlemen,  and  who  live 
loosely  about,  at  hotels  and  restaurateurs,  where 
they  are  little  known  as  to  early  history,  and  wel- 
come for  what  they  spend.  Connected  with  such 
classes,  and  no  less  with  the  common  wants  and  ne- 
cessary evils  of  large  cities,  is  all  that  unhappy 
rrowd  of  fair  and  frail  beauties,  which  is  to  be  found. 
19* 


240  BERLIN. 

most  certainly,  as  largely  scattered  about  the  city  of 
Berlin  as  Vienna.  This  a  Prussian,  who  knew  both 
capitals  well,  owned  to  me,  and  stated  that  he  re- 
membered the  time  when  Berlin  was  most  notori- 
ous, as  a  theatre  of  dissipation,  throughout  all  Eu- 
rope. He  attributed  it,  in  a  great  measure,  to  the 
then  frequent  presence  of  large  numbers  of  the  Rus- 
sian and  Polish  nobles,  who  used  to  pass  their  win- 
ters in  Berlin,  by  their  example,  and  the  wealth 
they  expended,  greatly  corrupting  the  capital,  and 
introducing  great  licentiousness,  not  so  much  among 
the  settled  inhabitants,  as  among  those  who  visited 
it^  allured  by  the  prospect  of  gaiety  and  unrestrained 
indulgence.  They  no  longer  frequent  Prussia;  and 
if  they  did,  their  minds  and  manners  are  no  longer 
what  they  were.  "  No,''  said  the  Prussian  ;  "  what 
we  dislike  the  Viennese  for  is  that  they  are  so  igno- 
rant and  contented,  so  fond  of  good  eating  and  drink- 
ing, and  so  indifferent  to  the  cultivation  of  their 
minds."  I  am,  in  neither  instance,  for  one  minute 
supposing  or  alluding  to  the  profligacy  of  private 
life,  of  which  I  can  know  nothing,  although  I  am  far 
from  thinking  that  the  divorces  in  Prussia  are  a  fair 
test  of  the  general  corruption  of  a  society.  These 
divorces  often  occur  where  there  has  been  no  pre- 
vious criminality;  and  however  it  may  be  regretted 
that  the  marriage-tie  is  so  dangerously  light,  yet  be- 
ing so  by  the  institutions  of  the  country,  all  unhappy 
marriages  are  made  public  by  the  act  of  the  dissolu- 
tion. I  detest  the  system  heartily ;  and  may  the 
marriage-vow  in  Old  England  ever  run  in  that  noble 
and  affecting  strain,  u  For  better  for  worse,  for  rich- 
er for  poorer,  in  sickness  and  in  health,  until  death 
do  part/* 


BERLIN.  241 

There  is  a  woman's  grave  near  Berlin,  which  all 
travellers  do  fondly  and  reverently  visit.  None 
needs  to  be  informed  of  the  life,  the  fortunes,  and 
the  fate  of  the  late  and  beloved  Queen  of  Prussia, — 
beloved,  not  only  by  a  devoted  husband,  but  by  an 
entire  people,  who  respected  her  pure  example,  as 
a  wife  and  a  mother,  and  adored  her  patriot  spirit  as 
their  queen.  The  subject  of  indignities,  which  ne- 
ver have  been,  and  never  will  be,  forgiven  to  the 
iron  Napoleon  ;  and  the  witness  of  public  calamities, 
which,  although  they  could  not  subdue  her  generous 
and  royal  mind,  corroded  the  inward  principle  of 
life,  stole  the  bloom  from  her  youthful  cheek,  the 
light  from  her  fair  eyes,  bowed  down  her  beautiful 
form,  broke  her  young  heart,  and  laid  her  in  the 
tomb. 

This  tomb  is  in  the  garden  of  Charlottenburgh. 
Acquainted  with  it  by  no  previous  description,  I  left 
the  palace  of  Charlottenburgh,  and  walked  down  the 
garden  alone,  the  person  in  attendance  having  point- 
ed out  the  direction,  and  promising  to  follow  with  the 
key.  It  was  not  without  surprise  that  I  came  sud- 
denly, among  trees,  upon  a  fair  white  Doric  temple. 
I  might,  and  should,  have  deemed  it  a  mere  adorn- 
ment of  the  grounds, — a  spot  sacred  to  silence,  or 
the  soft-breathed  song  ;  but  the  cypress  and  the  wil- 
low declare  it  as  a  habitation  of  the  dead.  There 
was  an  aged  invalid  busily  occupied  about  the  por- 
tal, in  sweeping  away  the  dead  and  yellow  leaves, 
which  gathered  there,  and  which  the  November 
blast,  in  mockery  of  his  vain  labour,  drove  back 
upon  it,  in  larger  and  louder  eddies.  He  shook  his 
grey  head  at  me,  and,  not  seeing  any  body  with  me, 
warned  me  petulantly  away.     Nay,  when  the  guar- 


242  BERLIN. 

dian  came,  it  might  be  fancy,  but  he  seemed  ill  pleas- 
ed that  the  sanctuary  should  be  violated.  Upon  a 
sarcophagus  of  white  marble  lay  a  sheet ;  and  the 
outline  of  a  human  form  was  plainly  visible  beneath 
its  folds.  It  seemed  as  though  he  removed  a  wind- 
ing-sheet, to  show  a  beloved  corse,  when  the  person 
with  me  reverently  turned  it  back,  and  displayed  the 
statue  of  his  queen.  It  is  a  portrait-statue  recum- 
bent, said  to  be  a  perfect  resemblance, — not  as  in 
death,  but  when  she  lived  to  bless  and  be  blessed. 
Nothing  can  be  more  calm  and  kind  than  the  expres- 
sion of  her  features.  The  hands  are  folded  on  the 
bosom  ;  the  limbs  are  sufficiently  crossed  to  show  the 
repose  of  life.  She  does  but  sleep, — she  scarce 
sleeps  ; — her  mind  and  heart  are  on  her  sweet  lips. 
It  is  the  work  of  Rauch,  and  the  sculptor  may,  in- 
deed, be  proud.  He  has  given  to  his  widowed  king 
a  solace  for  his  life.  Here  the  King  often  comes, 
and  passes  long  hours  alone ;  here  he  brings  her 
children  annually,  to  offer  garlands  at  her  grave. 
These  hang  in  withered  mournfulness  above  this  liv- 
ing image  of  their  departed  mother  ;  and  each  year 
sees  them  renewed. 

Even  a  stranger  might  sit  soothed  for  hours  by 
the  side  of  this  marble  form,  it  breathes  such  purity, 
such  peace.  1  wish  it  were  more  the  custom  in 
these  days  to  place  the  portrait-statue  recumbent  on 
the  monument  of  the  dead.  It  is  the  finest  kind  of 
memorial:  nor  less  so,  I  think,  even  where,  as  in  the 
middle  ages,  it  is  allowed  to  approach  to  the  appear- 
ance of  the  corse,  provided  the  features  be  preserv- 
ed, and  the  general  execution,  nature :  the  fillet 
round  the  temples,  the  cheeks  slightly  collapsed,  and 


BERLIN. 

ihe  limbs  stretched  out  in  the  stony  rigidity  of  death, 
have  a  most  affecting  and  sublime  character. 

As  soon  as  we  had  left  the  temple,  the  old  man, 
fobbing  his  disregarded  fee  vyithout  looking  at  it,  re- 
turned to  his  strange  and  useless  task,  with  all  that 
wasted  diligence  which  often  marks  the  activity  of 
the  second  childhood  ;  and  as  1  looked  back  I  saw 
the  disturbed  leaves  circling  round  his  aged  head. 
How  strange,  how  mysterious  are  the  decrees  of 
Heaven  ! — youth  and  beauty  lie  buried  in  the  early 
grave, — lone  and  withered  age  lives  on  ! 

An  Englishman  feels  little  tempted  to  pass  a  win- 
ter in  the  capital  of  Prussia.  The  stove,  although  I 
admit  that  it  spreads  a  more  equal  and  comfortable 
heat  through  an  apartment,  is  no  substitute  for  the 
red  glow  of  the  companionable  fire  :  you  cannot  turn 
your  back  to  it  with  satisfaction  ;  you  miss  that  scep- 
tre of  domestic  rule,  the  poker;  and  you  are  glad,  at 
least  I  was,  to  hasten  home. 

I  have  never  in  my  life  traversed  so  wretched  a 
road  as  that  which  leads  from  Berlin  to  Hamburgh; 
and  I  think  the  man  who  should  enter  Germany  from 
this  latter  point  would,  of  necessity,  throw  so  dark  a 
colour  on  his  canvass,  that  his  whole  picture  of  the 
country  would  partake  the  gloom.  It  is  a  jour- 
ney to  be  endured,  just  as  you  would  a  punishment, 
or  a  surgical  operation.  Through  the  long  night 
the  eye  will  never  close,  the  head  will  never  cease 
to  ache,  and,  from  the  successive  and  continuous  jolts, 
although  the  carriage  be  ever  so  well  padded,  the 
shoulders  will  be  bruised  and  blackened.  A  great 
deal  of  it  is  laid  down  in  timber  to  prevent  vehicles 
from  sinking  immovable  in  the  sand,  and  the  passing 
these  portions  is  a  fatigue  very  far  beyond  a  day's 


244  HAMBURGH. 

journeying  on  the  dromedary.  The  houses  of  call 
are  wretched.  At  one  of  them,  in  a  wild  sandy  spot, 
among  forests  of  fir,  i  heard  the  sound  of  music,  and 
looking  in,  through  a  cloud  of  smoke  in  a  small  mi- 
serable apartment,  so  hot,  that  1  could  not  remain 
five  minutes,  1  found  a  collection  of  figures,  cast  in 
nature's  most  coarse  and  ungainly  mould,  waltzing. 
Women,  brown  and  broad,  with  heavy  shoes,  and 
coarse  stuff  gowns  and  petticoats,  waltzing  with 
clowns  as  plain  and  rough,  only  looking,  from  their 
garb,  less  large — less  masculine  I  might  say.  It  was 
good  this  : — it  was  not  fit  that  1  should  have  left  Ger- 
many without  being  jolted  over  this  execrable  road, 
or  without  having  some  of  my  bright  and  soft  recol- 
lections of  the  German  waltz  corrected,  or  rather 
disturbed  by  the  sight  of  a  group,  and  of  movements, 
which  no  pen  or  pencil  could  faithfully  depict. 

It  was  a  dirty,  drizzling,  dull,  cold  day  when  I  en- 
tered Hamburgh,  and  the  very  first  question  1  asked 
when  I  got  out  of  the  carriage,  was,  w  Is  there  a 
packet  at  Cuxhaven,  and  when  does  she  sail  for  Eng- 
land ?"  That  evening  I  dropped  down  the  river  in 
a  Hamburgh  boat ;  the  next  morning  1  was  sailing 
past  f Heligoland ;  on  the  night  of  that  day,  slept 
through  a  gale  boisterously  favourable,  on  the  North 
sea,  and  anchored  the  third  evening  in  Harwich 
roads. 

The  conclusion  of  this  light  volume  must,  I  feel, 
be  that  in  which  nothing  is  concluded.  I  was  desi- 
rous of  seeing  Germany  for  myself,  and  I  have  seen 
it.  I  have  only  ventured  to  give  brief  notices  of 
what  I  saw)  and  to  mingle  with  them  those  reflec- 
tions, which  the  scenes  I  looked  upon  suggested  to 
my  mind.    Germany  had  long  been,  to  my  fancy,  the 


CONCLUSION. 

region  of  romance  ;  her  warrior  population,  and  her 
fair-eyed  women,  had  filled  up  many  a  picture,  paint- 
ed by  the  mind's  pencil  in  her  musing  hours.  I  had 
already  seen  all  her  armies  in  review  arrav  ;  I  want- 
ed to  see  them  scattered  about  their  native  country 
in  such  groups  and  occupations  as  belong  to  peace. 

1  wanted  to  look  upon  those  women  of  Germany, 
to  whose  lot  it  has  not  unfrequently  fallen  to  conceal 
to-day  a  vanquished  friend,  to  receive  to-morrow  a 
victorious  foe  ; — to  succour  the  wounded  of  all  par- 
ties ;  to  have  her  heart  assailed,  as  woman,  in  a 
thousand  ways,  and  to  be  placed  in  situations,  where 
love  could  only  breed  despair. 

I  wanted  to  see  those  German  youths,  who,  in  the 
strange  and  frequent  changes  of  alliance  in  their  dis- 
tracted country,  found  the  tie  of  private  friendship 
suddenly  broken  by  the  voice  of  war;  and  the  man 
whom  their  soul  loved  opposed  to  them  in  the  front 
of  battle. 

The  theatre  of  these  battles,  the  site  of  the  camps 
where  contending  armies  lay,  of  the  cities  in  which 
they  were  cantoned,  the  amusements  which  the  day's 
halt  gave  them  opportunities  of  sharing  for  a  first,  a 
last,  an  only  time,  the  promenades  on  which  they 
may  have  walked,  and  the  gardens  in  which  their 
bands  may  have  gathered  involuntary  groups  of  lis- 
teners during  the  short  sojourn ; — these,  and  such 
like,  were  my  trifling  objects,  and,  perhaps,  it  was 
not  altogether  without  a  secret  wish  to  gather  mate- 
rials of  scenery  and  of  portraits  which  might  give 
truth  and  interest  to  some  proposed  fictions ;  for 
military  life  would  weave  well  into  the  woof,  and 
have  shades  as  well  as  lights,  dark  as  the  lover  of 
peace  could  desire  them  to  be?  and  bright  as  to  the 


246  CONCLUSION. 

brave,  the  ardent,  and  the  young,  they  ever  must 
appear.  Whether  I  shall  ever  venture  on  the  task. 
I  know  not.     "  Man  proposeth,  God  disposeth." 

"  What,  though  the  radiance  which  was  once  so  bright 
Be  now  for  ever  taken  from  my  sight, 
Though  nothing  can  bring  back  the  hour 
Of  splendour  in  the  grass,  of  glory  in  the  flower: 
We  will  grieve  not,  rather  find 
Strength  in  what  remains  behind, 
In  the  primal  sympathy 
Which  having  been  must  ever  be, 
In  the  soothing  thoughts  that  spring 
Out  of  human  suffering, 
In  the  faith  that  looks  through  death, 
In  years  that  bring  the  philosophic  mind." 

Wordsworth. 


THE    END. 


IT 


<o 


